UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
LOS  ANGELES 


0 

I 

5 


TOWN  AND  COUNTRY. 


DOINGS 


BODLEY  FAMILY 


IN  TOWN  AND  COUNTRY 


BY    THE   AUTHOR  OF 


"STORIES  FROM  MY  ATTIC,"    "DREAM  CHILDREN,"  AND   "SEVEN  LITTLE   PEOPLE 

AND  THEIR  FRIENDS  " 


WITH    SEVENTY-SEVEN    ILLUSTRATIONS 


BOSTON 
HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN   AND   COMPANY 

Hibersiue  press,  CambriDge 

1881 


Ctepyright,  1875,  by  KURD  AND  HOUGHTO* 


RIVERSIDE,  CAMBRIDGE: 
ELECTROTYPED  AND  PRINTED 
H.  O.  HOUGHTON  AND  COMPANY. 


To   SYLVIA  AND  ETHEL. 

They  came  by  night  at  the  turn  of  the  year: 
One  was  dark  and  one  was  fair, 
It  would  have  been  lonely  for  one  to  be  here, 
So  both  came  down  the  heavenly  stair. 


48S919 

EDUCATION 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.    MOVING  INTO   THE   COUNTRY -     ...        9 

II.     LUCY'S   WALK 23 

III.  A  EAINY  DAY  IN  THE   BARN 30 

r 

IV.  MAY-DAY          .....: •          51 

V.    MICE,   RATS,   AND   BIGGER  ANIMALS      . -    69 

VI.    MASTER   HIGH  FLYER        .        .        .        . .88 

VII.  PROFESSOR  WISE    .        .        .        .        .        .        .    ,    ,        .        .       '.        .        .106 

VIII.     THIRD   OF  JULY    .        .        .        .        . 122 

IX.     FOURTH   OF  JULY   . .'       .        .        .        .        .139 

X.     A  FAMOUS   RIDE 157 

XI.    ROBBERS! 171 

XII.     THE   HUNTING  OF   THE   CHEVIOT 186 

XIII.    NATHAN'S   PIG  .  205 


Vlll  CONTENTS. 

XIV.     CHRISTMAS   HOLIDAYS .'  223 

XV.    TWO   CHRISTMAS  GIFTS   .  239 


NOTE.  —  The  fairy  tales  in  verse  were  written  by  a  lady  not  now  living,  Miss  Annette 
Bishop,  who  also  drew  the  pictures  which  accompany  them.  She  had  a  singularly  nice  feel- 
ing for  her  work,  and  since  it  is  hardly  likely  that  her  scattered  poems  and  pictures  will  ever 
be  brought  together  into  a  volume,  the  writer  has  introduced  them  here,  hoping  thus  to  please 
another  generation  of  children  than  those  who  first  enjoyed  them.  Something  of  the  same 
kind  may  be  said  of  the  three  stories  in  verse,  The  Battle  of  Bumble-Bug  and  Bumble-Bee, 
Harry  O'Hum,  and  Picture  Bob  and  his  wonderful  Cob,  which  are  too  good  to  be  buried  in 
the  pages  of  an  extinct  magazine.  The  Story  of  the  Little  Rid  Hin  is  an  adaptation  made 
by  an  anonymous  writer  from  the  same  story  as  told  in  prose  in  Mrs.  Whitney's  "  Faith  Gart- 
ney's  Girlhood."  The  Lullaby  on  page  185  also  was  written  by  a  friend  of  the  author,  who 
believes  that  he  has  now  by  this  general  confession  cleared  himself  of  any  suspicion  of  taking 
the  credit  of  other  people's  good  work. 


DOINGS  OF   THE   BODLEY  FAMILY. 


CHAPTER   I. 

MOVING   INTO   THE    COUNTRY. 

HE  sun  was  shining  brightly  one 
morning  in  April,  and  in  such  good- 
natured  fashion  that  he  was  wann- 
ing both  rogues  and  honest  men, 
and  not  only  spreading  his  light 
and  warmth  over  the  fields  that 
lay  stretched  out  waiting  for  him, 
but  hunting  through  the  narrow, 
high-walled  streets  of  the  city,  in 
search  of  cold  and  damp  places, 
and  traveling  just  as  far  from  one 
side  of  the  street  to  the  other  as 
the  houses  would  let  him.  It  was 
pleasant  to  see  what  he  was  doing  in  Asylum  Street,  for  he 
had  sought  out  the  Orphan-house,  and  now  its  whole  red  front 
was  glowing ;  and  it  seemed  as  if  the  sun  were  trying  his  best 
to  work  through  the  thick  walls  and  get  at  the  children  with 
his  gigantic  smile.  The  windows  let  him  in,  and  about  them 


10  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

were  the  children  clustered,  with  some  drowsy  flies,  too,  that 
Ijad  just  begun  to  wake  from  their  winter's  nap  and  were  stum- 
bling over  the  panes ;  though  some,  more  discreet,  had  sat  down 
on  the  sill,  and  were  first  rubbing  their  sleepy  heads  with  their 
fore-legs. 

The  flies  had  been  too  sleepy,  but  the  children  had  watched  out  of 
the  front  of  the  house  while  the  sun  was  journeying,  and  they  had 
seen  what  was  going  on  opposite.  The  windows  and  doors  of  num- 
ber 101  were  wide  open,  and  three  long  carts  stood  in  the  street. 
They  were  furniture-wagons,  and  men  were  busy  stowing  in  them 
the  contents  of  the  house.  The  sidewalk  was  lively  with  pieces  of 
furniture  that  had  never  come  so  near  each  other  before.  There 
stood  the  pompous  etagere  from  the  parlor,  swelling  out  grandly ; 
and  yet  a  towel-horse,  standing  on  two  legs  only,  was  rearing  up 
against  it.  The  oil  portrait  of  the  great-grandfather,  with  white 
neck-handkerchief  and  his  head  set  on  one  side  like  a  robin's,  was 
sitting  in  a  lowly  rocking-chair  hauled  up  from  the  kitchen,  which 
gave  a  thumping  sound  in  its  lower  part  whenever  rocked  in.  The 
sofa  stood  against  the  wall,  stretching  its  arms  out ;  and  it  was  very 
improper,  but  a  hat-tub  had  sat  down  in  it.  Things  were  put  on 
the  cart,  not  in  order  of  merit,  but  as  they  happened  to  fit  in  best ; 
though  to  be  sure  the  parlor  furniture  was  wrapped  up  in  pieces 
of  old  carpet,  —  but  how  different  that  was  from  having  one's  feet 
on  the  best  carpet ! 

The  children  could  see  the  pieces  come  down-stairs  and  out  of 
doors,  and  it  was  great  fun  to  watch  each  make  its  way  into  the 
street :  first  one  man  would  appear,  staggering  backward  and  look- 
ing anxiously  over  his  shoulder,  while  a  chest  of  drawers  thumped 
into  him  at  every  step,  till  his  hat  was  tipped  forward  and  he  could 


MOVING   INTO    THE   COUNTRY.  11 

not  see  where  he  was  going  to ;  and  then  after  the  chest  the  other 
man,  peeping  over  the  top  and  clinging  to  it  as  if  he  did  not  want 
it  to  go  down  at  all.  Then  one  man  would  come  along,  lugging  a 
great  mattress,  twice  as  big  as  himself,  around  which  he  pried  to 
see  his  way  down  the  steps ;  and  just  behind,  another  carrying  a 
clock  in  his  arms  as  if  it  were  a  child.  Then  what  a  work  it  was 
to  get  the  piano  out !  Six  men,  two  behind,  two  in  front,  and  two 
in  the  middle,  stumbled  to  the  doorway,  and  then  the  two  middle 
men  had  to  squeeze  past,  and  they  had  nothing  to  take  hold  of; 
and  then  the  children  thought  it  was  going  to  fall,  but  it  did  not, 
and  it  was  safely  lodged  in  the  cart,  and  the  men  came  down 
again,  triumphantly  bringing  the  legs  and  the  piano-stool  and  the 
swell.  They  all  took  off  their  hats  after  that  and  wiped  their 
heads,  and  then  went  up  after  the  bedsteads.  There  was  one 
huge  book-case  that  came  apart  in  the  middle,  and  had  looking- 
glass  doors  above :  it  was  a  great  feat  to  get  that  out ;  and  be- 
hind it  came  an  ancient  secretary,  which  also  could  be  taken  to 
pieces  in  a  wonderful  manner,  and  was  covered  with  dust  behind. 

Now  as  the  orphans  looked,  they  saw  three  children  run 
down  the  steps,  and  at  that  they  became  very  lively. 

"  That  is  Nathan !  "  cried  one  of  the  boys ;  "  he  has  got  a 
bow-gun  in  his  hand." 

"  And  there  is  Phippy,"  said  a  little  girl ;  "  she  does  n't  stand 
still  a  minute.  I  should  n't  think  those  piano  men  would  like 
to  have  her  climbing  up  on  the  cart." 

"  Lucy  is  carrying  her  kitten,"  said  a  third.  "It  is  that  very 
same  black-and-white  kitten  that  she  brought  here  one  day." 

"  There,  the  carts  have  all  gone.  There  were  twelve  loads ;  I 
counted,"  said  the  one  who  had  spoken  first.  Still  the  children 


12  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

seemed  to  be  waiting  for  something.  Nathan  marched  solemnly 
up  the  street  with  his  gun  on  his  shoulder,  and  looked  round 
the  corner,  but  came  back  shaking  his  head.  Lucy  sat  down 
on  the  upper  step  holding  Kitty  in  her  lap  and  humming  to 
her  ;  while  Philippa  did  nothing  but  run  up  and  down  the  steps 
and  race  to  the  corner  and  back.  Their  mother  was  in  the 
house,  hunting  through  every  room  to  see  that  nothing  was  left 
behind,  and  collecting  all  the  stray  articles  into  a  little  heap  on 
the  parlor  floor.  But  at  last  she  heard  the  children  shout,  — 

"  Mama,  it  has  come  !  "  shouted  Philippa.  "  There  is  the  car- 
ryall ! "  and  she  hopped  up  and  down  on  the  sidewalk.  A  bay 
horse  with  a  white  nose  was  drawing  the  carryall,  and  in  side 
sat  Martin  the  man. 

"  Whoa !  "  said  Nathan  to  carryall,  horse,  and  man.  Martin 
laughed  and  jumped  out  of  the  carriage.  "  You  stopped  him 
that  time  —  you  did,  Master  Nathan,"  said  he  ;  "  but  don't  fire 
your  gun  at  him." 

"  I  am  going  to  fire  a  salute  to  the  orphans,"  said  Nathan, 
who  had  been  thinking  about  it  a  good  deal,  and  before  any- 
body could  say  no,  or  he  could  get  his  gun  quite  straight,  he 
pulled  the  trigger  and  away  went  an  arrow  right  over  to  the 
Orphan-house. 

"  Oh,  you  've  shot  the  orphans  !  You  've  shot  the  orphans  !  " 
cried  Philippa,  as  she  saw  the  arrow  go  through  one  of  the  win- 
dows. 

"  It  ought  to  have  gone  straight  up,"  said  Nathan,  very  much 
frightened,  "  and  come  right  down  again." 

"  I  must  go  over  at  once,"  said  Mrs.  Bodley.  "  Nathan,  how 
could  you  ? "  and  she  hurried  away,  alarmed,  but  almost  laugh- 
ing, too.  The  matron  met  her  at  the  door. 


MOVING   INTO  THE   COUNTRY.  13 

"Is  any  one  hurt?"  she  asked,  quickly. 

"  No,"  said  the  matron,  "  though  it  is  a  wonder,  for  the  chil- 
dren wete  all  crowded  about;  but  the  arrow's  force  was  nearly  spent 
on  the  glass,  and  it  fell  down  inside,  scattering  the  glass  about." 

"  I  am  truly  sorry,"  said  Mrs.  Bodley.  "  My  little  boy  was 
very  foolish.  He  meant  to  fire  a  salute,  as  he  said,  to  the  chil- 
dren," and  she  smiled ;  "  for  we  are  all  sorry  to  leave  their 
pleasant  faces.  We  ought  to  bid  them  good-by,  Mrs.  Keeper ;  " 
and  so  saying,  she  beckoned  to  the  children  in  the  carriage. 

"  Come  here,  children,"  said  she.  Philippa  and  Lucy  came 
slowly  over,  —  Lucy  crying  and  hugging  her  kitten,  and  Phippy 
looking  very  solemn  and  very  red ;  but  Nathan  was  on  the  back 
seat  of  the  carryall,  with  his  head  buried  in  the  cushion,  calling 
to  Martin  to  drive  off  as  fast  as  he  could,  for  he  had  killed  an 
orphan.  His  mother  came  hurrying  over,  and  opening  the  door, 
called  out,  — 

"  Nathan,  nobody  is  hurt.  It  was  very  careless  in  you ;  but 
you  must  come  over  and  bid  the  children  good-by,  and  tell  Mrs. 
Keeper  how  sorry  you  are." 

Nathan  got  out  very  much  tumbled  up,  and  holding  his 
mother's  hand,  walked  gravely  across  the  street.  The  orphan 
children  were  all  in  the  entry  or  on  the  staircase,  and  Phippy 
and  Lucy  were  saying  good-by.  Nathan  hung  back  a  little,  and 
then  said  :  — 

"  Mrs.  Keeper,  I  did  not  wish  to  kill  any  one.  I  am  very 
sorry ;  I  meant  to  give  a  salute,  but  the  arrow  went  the  wrong 
way.  I  would  give  you  the  bow-gun,"  he  added,  seriously,  "  but 
we  are  going  into  the  country,  and  I  suppose  I  shall  need  it 
there.  There  may  be  Indians.  I  can  get  another  arrow,"  but 


14 


DOINGS    OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 


still  he  looked  somewhat  wistfully  toward  the   arrow  which   Mrs, 

Keeper  held. 

"  My  little  boy  must  pay  for  the  new  glass,"   said  Mrs.  Bodley, 

t(  and  for  any  other  mischief  which  he  has  done." 

"  Indeed,   there   is   little,"    said    Mrs.    Keeper,    good-naturedly, 

"  and  he  may  have  his 
arrow  again  ;  but  I 
hope  you  will  take 
better  aim,  Nathan, 
when  you  shoot  In- 
dians." The  orphan 
children  all  huddled 
together  at  this,  and 
looked  with  awe  on 
their  little  neighbor, 
who  now  began  to  feel 
more  grand. 

"  Good-by,  children," 
said  he,  loftily  waiving 
his  arrow  toward  them, 
and  marching  across 
the  street,  with  his 
bow-gun  on  his  shoul- 
der, followed  by  his 
mother  and  sisters. 

"  Nathan,  you  de- 
serve a  good,  sound 

Bidding  the  Bodleys  good-by.  whipping,"        Said       MrS. 

Bodley;   "but  how  few  get  their  deserts,"  she  added  to  herself. 


MOVING  INTO    THE   COUNTRY. 


15 


And  now  at  length  the  carryall  with  its  load  was  off,  Nathan 
and  Phippy  being  on  -the  front  seat  with.  Martin,  while  Lucy 
and  her  mother  were  behind.  All  the  way  up  Asylum  Street, 
the  children  flung  out  their  good-byes,  pu.tting  their  heads  out  of 
the  carryall  on  one  side  and  the  other.  Mrs.  Batterman's  house, 
a  one  story  shed  with  tar  roof,  stood  next  their  own. 

"Good-by,  Mrs.  Bat- 
terman,"  shouted  Na- 
than, shaking  his  hand 
at  it.  "  You  won't  think 
our  water  leaks  into 
your  house  again.  You 
ought  to  see  old  Ma'am 
Di  Batterman,  Martin," 
and  he  began  to  tell 
him  about  her ;  but 
just  then  they  passed 
the  place  where  he  had 
been  run  over  by  Mr. 
Wilkins's  milk-cart,  and 
he  must  tell  about  that  : 
they  were  not  the  only 
people  moving,  either. 
"  Mother,"  cried  Nathan, 
turning  suddenly  round, 
"  there  is  solemn  Jacobs 
moving.  That 's  his  dog. 
Here,  Jip,  Jip  !  "  and  Sol'm  Jacobs  with  hs  Dog  and  Clock' 

he  put   his  head  out  of  the  window  and  called  to  a  little  black- 


16  DOINGS   OF  THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

and-tan   that   Sol'm  Jacobs,  as  the  sign  read  over  a  tobacconist's 
near  by,  was  dragging  along  rather  reluctantly. 

"  Jip  does  n't  want  to  go,  Thanny,  does  he,"  said  Philippa. 

"  I  wonder  if  the  clock  wants  to  go,"  said  Mrs.  Bodley. 

"  Why,  mama,  of  course  it  goes ;  that 's  solemn  Jacobs  carrying 
it,"  said  Nathan.  So  they  went  on,  and  he  and  Phippy  kept  up 
a  great  clatter,  shaking  their  hands  at  the  people  and  laughing 
with  glee,  while  their  mother  hushed  at  them,  and  Martin 
clucked  at  the  horse,  as  if  they  were  a  grand  procession  such  as 
never  had  passed  up  the  street  before,  and  must  do  it  now  in 
fine  style.  The  horse  jogged  along  leisurely,  and  seemed  to 
think  it  a  very  ordinary  occasion. 

"  This  is  a  pretty  good  horse  of  ours,  Martin,"  said  Nathan, 
now  that  they  were  out  of  the  street  and  fairly  away. 

"  Well,  yes,"  laughed  Martin.     "  He  's  a  bit  of  a  weaver." 

"  A  weaver  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Bodley. 

"  Yes,  ma'am ;  but  Mr.  Bodley,  he  said  it  would  n't  make  much 
matter,  you  see." 

"  A  weaver  !  "  said  Nathan.  "  Why,  I  thought  a  weaver  was 
a  man,  like  —  like"  —  and  he  tried  to  think  of  a  weaver. 

"  Like  Bottom,"  suggested  Mrs.  Bodley.  "  Bottom  was  a 
weaver." 

"  Yes,  like  Bottom,"  said  Nathan,  who  had  never  heard  of 
him  before. 

"  Well,"  said  Martin,  "  when  your  Mr.  Bottom  weaves,  he 
just  pushes  the  shuttle  from  one  side  to  the  other  and  moves 
along  with  it ;  and  so  when  a  horse  in  his  stall  moves  his  head 
back  and  forth  along  the  crib,  we  say  he  is  a  weaver." 

"  What  is  his  name  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Bodley. 


MOVING  INTO    THE    COUNTRY.  17 

"  The  last  folks  that  had  him  called  him  Peter,  ma'am,"  said 
Martin. 

"  But  what  is  his  last  name  ?  "  asked  Philippa.    "  Peter  what  ?  " 

"  That  I  never  heard,"  said  Martin. 

"  I  know  what  it  is,"  said  Nathan,  who  already  felt  himself 
master  of  the  horse  ;  "  it 's  Bottom,  because  he  's  like  the  man 
that  mother  knows.  Get  up,  Peter  Bottom." 

Mr.  Bottom  wagged  along  with  the  party,  and  the  farther  they 
went  the  more  excited  were  the  children,  who  had  not  yet  seen 
the  place  where  they  were  to  live,  and  who  only  knew  that  it 
was  a  brick  house  in  the  country,  three  miles  from  Asylum 
Street.  The  street  they  were  driving  on  became  wider  and  the 
houses  more  rare.  They  left  the  city  behind,  but  had  not  yet 
come  to  green  fields. 

"  Now  we  are  on  General  Street,"  said  Mrs.  Bodley,  and  the 
children,  knowing  that  their  new  home  was  on  that  street,  be- 
came very  much  excited. 

"  This  must  be  the  place,"  cried  Nathan.  "  Stop,  Mr.  Bottom.. 
Stop,  Martin.  Whoa  !  " 

"  Oh,  how  nice  !  "  said  Phippy  ;  "  there  is  a  garden  in  front." 
But  it  was  not  the  place,  only  a  poor  sunburnt  brick  house  with 
a  patch  of  ground  squeezed  in  between  it  and  the  street.  As 
they  drove  on,  the  street  became  freer  and  the  houses  more 
scattered.  But  though  they  had  pleasant  gardens  about  them, 
they  were  nearly  all  built  of  wood.  Then  they  began  to  see 
barns  and  little  patches  of  market-garden. 

"  Oh,  look  !  look  !  "  cried  Lucy.  "  There  is  a  real  calf  just  like 
the  one  in  my  picture-book." 

"  Stop    a   moment,    Martin,"    said    Mrs.    Bodley,    "  and    let   the 

2 


18  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

children  see  the  pretty  sight."  There  was  a  shed  right  by  the 
kitchen  door  of  a  plain,  old-fashioned  farm-house,  that  stood  there, 
though  all  the  houses  built  at  the  same  time  in  the  neighbor- 
hood had  long  been  gone.  A  young  girl,  a  little  older  than 
Phippy,  was  holding  out  some  grass  in  a  pan  to  a  big  bossy 
calf,  while  her  little  brother,  about  Nathan's  age,  stood  looking  on, 
and  the  mother  with  a  smaller  boy  in  her  arms  watched  them. 
There  was  a  cat  on  a  hogshead,  too,  but  the  cat  had  her  own 
notions  about  things.  She  thought  so  good  a  tin  pan  as  that 
might  hold  something  better  than  grass. 

"  Do  let  me  get  out,  mother !  "  exclaimed  Nathan,  and  he 
seized  the  side  of  the  carryall. 

"  No,  no,  Nathan.  We  '11  come  to  see  them  some  time.  We 
have  n't  a  great  way  to  go  now.  Drive  on,  Martin." 

They  passed  by  a  cliff  of  rocks  where  men  were  at  work  drill- 
ing ;  and  then  on  the  other  side  of  the  way,  as  they  went  up 
the  hill,  they  saw  a  stone  castle,  as  Lucy  said,  —  a  real  stone 
•castle  with  a  tower,  —  and  she  was  pretty  sure  people  shot  out 
•of  the  windows. 

"  Only  let  them  shoot  at  us ! "  said  Nathan,  bravely,  and  he 
tried  to  get  at  his  bow-gun,  which  was  on  the  bottom  of  the 
carryall.  But  they  were  at  the  top  of  the  hill,  and  Mrs.  Bod- 
ley's —  "Now  then,  children !"  made  them  all  put  their  heads 
out  and  peer  excitedly  about. 

"  I  see  it,  I  see  it !  "  said  Phippy,  jumping  out  of  her  seat 
and  almost  falling  over  on  to  Mr.  Bottom. 

"That!"  said  Nathan.  "That  is  not  it;  it  is  not  near  the 
street  at  all.  Our  house  is  near  the  street."  But  Martin,  who 
had  been  here  before,  suddenly  turned  a  corner  and  drove 
through  a  gate-way  up  an  avenue. 


MOVING   INTO   THE   COUNTRY.  21 

"  Oh,  here  we  are !  "  laughed  Lucy,  and  then  she  stooped 
over  and  told  Kitty. 

"  No,  we  're  not  at  all,"  said  the  obstinate  little  Nathan  ;  "  our 
house  is  on  the  street.  This  is  not  a  street.  What  are  you 
going  up  here  for,  Martin?" 

"  Well,  Master  Nathan,  I  'm  just  going  to  put  Peter  Bottom 
up  in  the  barn,  and  put  you  up  in  the  house." 

"  Is  it  the  house,  mother  ? "  persisted  Nathan.  But  she  only 
laughed  and  said  that  Mr.  Bottom  lived  here,  at  any  rate. 

"  Well,  not  my  Mr.  Bottom,"  said  Nathan.  "  Your  Mr.  Bot- 
tom, the  real  weaver." 

"0  Nathan,  do  stop!"  cried  Phippy.  "Just  see!  Isn't  it 
splendid  ?  And  there  's  the  barn,  and  oh  !  I  can  see  the  hay." 

"  And  there  are  chickens,"  said  Lucy,  putting  her  little  head 
out  and  calling  to  them. 

The  avenue  up  which  they  had  driven  wound  through  a  pleas- 
ant field  up  to  the  house.  It  was  bordered  by  narrow  flower- 
beds, and  in  the  beds  stood  flowering  shrubs  and  young  trees, 
which  would  some  day  grow  to  be  large  and  arch  over  the  road, 
but  now  the}^  hardly  shut  out  from  light  the  field  on  the  left, 
where  a  dozen  stout  cherry-trees  grew  ;  and  that  on  the  right, 
which  was  a  grassy  plat  stretching  up  a  little  hill,  and  disappear- 
ing whither  they  could  not  say  on  the  other  side  of  the  rising. 
At  the  end  of  the  avenue  stood  the  house.  It  was  not  a  very 
splendid  house,  but  it  was  a  good  one  to  live  in.  Two  locust- 
trees  stood  in  front  of  it,  and  in  the  corner,  where  the  wooden 
shed  was  joined  to  the  house,  was  a  graceful  elm.  The  house 
had  a  red,  good-natured  face,  looking  as  if  it  had  set  itself 
down  squarely  in  this  open  country,  where  it  could  draw  a  long 


22  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

breath  and  not  be  too  crowded  for  elbow-room.  It  had  win? 
dows  that  leaned  out  on  the  roof,  and  looked  oft' —  one  way 
over  the  hills,  the  other  toward  the  sea. 

The  children,  who  entered  with  their  mother,  went  into  all  the 
rooms,  and  came  at  last  into  the  upper  story  of  all.  What  a  splen- 
did place  that  was  ;  for  there  was  one  great  room  covering  the 
entire  floor,  and  the  six  windows,  three  on  each  side,  wrere  the 
windows  that  looked  off  so  far.  A  window-seat  was  below  the 
middle  one  on  each  side  :  climbing  up  on  one,  they  could  see  over 
the  garden  and  into  the  pasture,  and  beyond  among  the  rocks  and 
trees  that  were  about  May  Pond,  and  still  farther  away,  the  blue 
hills  that  rolled  along  in  gentle  line  beneath  the  blue  sky.  Then 
from  the  other  side,  at  foot  was  the  barn  and  the  little  houses  that 
straggled  about  it,  for  pig  and  cow  and  hens  ;  the  kitchen-garden, 
the  currant-bushes,  the  apple-orchard ;  and  farther  off,  the  bay, 
which  opened  into  the  broad  sea ;  and  away  off,  as  far  as  one  could 
look,  were  white-winged  ships,  sailing  out  of  sight  beyond  the  edge 
of  the  sky  and  water,  or  coining  nearer  to  draw  up  to  the  great 
city,  the  houses  of  which  could  also  be  seen,  and  the  bells,  when 
they  rang,  sent  their  sounds  up  to  the  house  and  into  the  children's 
play-room. 

The  sun  when  it  rose  looked  in  at  the  windows  on  one  side,  and 
saw  the  children's  playthings ;  and  when  it  had  gone  its  round  and 
could  look  into  the  opposite  winodws,  perhaps  it  would  see  the  chil- 
dren at  play,  —  but  this  was  only  in  winter,  for  on  sunny  days  in 
summer  they  were  always  in  the  garden  or  in  the  pasture.  But  in 
winter  it  could  see  them  ;  and  perhaps  just  as  it  went  down  behind 
the  earth  in  the  west,  it  stopped  to  take  one  more  look  at  three 
little  children  nestled  together  on  the  cushioned  window-seat,  chat- 


LUCY'S    WALK.  23 

tering  to  one  another,  or  two  little  children  playing  cat's-cradle  or 
checkers,  or  one  little  child  reading  a  book  spread  out  on  her  lap. 
How  could  the  sun  be  willing  to  set  at  all ! 

Now  let  us  learn  what  the  children  of  the  Bodley  family  see   and 
hear  and  do  and  say  in  the  house  and  garden  and  pasture. 


CHAPTER  II. 
LUCY'S  WALK. 

"  Now,  children,"  said  Mrs.  Bodley,  "you  may  run  out  to  play. 
It  will  be  an  hour  yet  before  we  have  dinner.  Don't  go  very  far 
from  the  house,  and  when  you  go  into  the  barn,  mind  what  Martin 
says." 

The  three  children  stood  by  the  front  door,  which  was  open, 
looking  at  the  two  locust-trees  that  stood  on  a  little  oval  grass-plat 
in  front,  round  which  the  carriage  road  passed.  Phippy  was  think- 
ing whether  they  could  not  have  a  little  house  there ;  Lucy  was 
wondering  whether  there  was  a  bird's  nest  among  the  branches,  and 
if  they  would  hear  a  locust  or  see  them  come  skipping  along  to  eat 
trees  as  they  did  in  Egypt ;  and  Nathan  was  thinking  about  Mr. 
Bottom,  who  had  been  taken  out  of  the  carryall. 

"  Come,"  said  Lucy,  "  let 's  go  into  the  garden." 

"  Well,  we  will  go  round  by  the  barn  first,"  said  Nathan ;  "  I  '11 
show  you  the  way,"  and  he  ran  down  the  steps,  the  little  girls  after 
him.  But  they  had  not  been  in  the  wood-shed  yet,  so  Nathan  led 
them  through  that,  though  he  had  never  been  there  either,  and  it 


24  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

was  not  the  shortest  way,  but  he  felt  like  a  captain.  There  was  a 
great  pump  in  the  wood-shed  which  worked  very  hard,  and  the 
spout,  instead  of  being  inside  the  shed,  was  thrust  through  the  wall 
out  of  doors,  where  the  water,  coming  out  of  the  spout,  passed  into 
a  wooden  gutter  that  led  down  a  grassy  bank  to  a  horse-trough,  a 
place  where  little  boys  who  sailed  chip  boats  were  likely  to  get 
their  sleeves  wet.  It  looked  droll  enough,  to  come  toward  the 
house  and  see  the  water  suddenly  pop  out  of  this  spout,  as  if  the 
whole  house  were  a  reservoir  of  water,  just  to  fill  this  little  trough. 
Nathan  tried  the  pump  and  found  it  hard  work  to  get  the  handle 
down,  which  sprang  up  with  a  jerk  when  let  alone,  and  held  itself 
high  up  in  the  air,  as  if  it  did  not  wish  to  be  pumped  with ;  but 
Phippy,  who  had  run  outside,  and  was  watching  the  spout  intently, 
oalled  out  after  a  while,  "  it's  coming,"  and  Nathan  rushed  out  just 
in  time  to  see  a  few  drops  trickle  out  of  the  spout  into  the  gutter. 
The  trough  was  nearly  full,  and  a  green  border  lined  the  edges,  and 
on  the  sides  and  bottom  there  was  a  green  moss  growing,  which 
waved  gently  its  languid  arms  when  the  children  dabbled  in  the 
water  with  their  hands ;  for  the  trough  had  been  there  for  many 
years,  and  no  one  had  disturbed  the  moss. 

"  Let 's  make  boats  and  sail  them  here,"  said  Phippy. 

"  No,  I  'm  leader,"  said  Nathan,  "  and  you  must  follow  me.  We 
are  going  into  the  barn  first,  to  see  Mr.  Bottom ; "  and  he  marched 
off  as  if  he  were  the  owner  of  the  place.  The  carryall  stood  out  of 
doors,  backed  on  to  the  border  of  a  flower-bed  and  stretching  out 
its  shafts  in  front  in  a  comfortable,  after-dinner  fashion,  but  the  horse 
was  in  his  stall,  and  Martin  was  in  the  hay-loft.  The  children  heard 
a  strange,  regular  sound  as  they  stood  clustering  about  the  stable 
door  not  daring  to  go  in.  Mr.  Bottom  was  before  them,  but  they 
could  not  see  his  head  very  well. 


LUCY'S    WALK.  25 

"  What  is  Mr.  Bottom  doing,"  asked  Nathan  of  Martin,  who  just 
now  came  down  the  steep  steps  that  led  from  the  hay-loft. 

"  Oh,  he  's  weaving  now,  Master  Nathan  ;  you  know  I  told  your 
ma  he  was  a  weaver." 

"  But  I  can't  see  him." 

"  Do  let 's  come  into  the  garden,"  said  Lucy. 

"  Suppose  we  play  in  the  carryall,"  said  Phippy. 

"  I  want  to  see  Mr.  Bottom  weave,"  said  Nathan,  who  never  let 
an  idea  get  out  of  his  head,  though  it  was  hard  sometimes  to  get 
one  in. 

"I'll  put  you  right  on  these  steps,  then,"  said  Martin,  and  he 
perched  Nathan  in  an  uncomfortable  manner  on  the  edge  of 'a  step 
where  the  delighted  little  boy  could  sit,  free  from  danger,  and  see 
the  horse's  head  move  steadily,  backward  and  forward,  exploring  his 
crib  from  one  end  to  the  other,  and  from  the  other  end  to  the  one. 
The  little  boy  sat  staring  at  Mr.  Bottom,  and  wondered  if  he  really 
were  going  to  make  some  cloth. 

"  Phippy  !  Lucy !  "  he  cried,  "  Come  up  here  and  see  him  weave." 
But  the  children  had  walked  away,  for  they  did  not  like  the  stable 
very  much. 

"  Do  let  us  take  a  walk  through  the  garden  and  pick  some 
flowers,"  said  Lucy,  who  had  rarely  been  in  the  country  before,  ^-nd 
thought  she  should  find  the  whole  world  now  bearing  flowers.  But 
Phippy  wanted  to  stop  a  moment  at  the  trough  again  and  sail  a 
little  chip  into  which  she  had  stuck  a  pin  through  a  piece  of  paper, 
and  so  had  made  a  ship  and  a  sail. 

"  You  walk  along  slowly,  Lucy,"  said  she,  "  for  I  must  get  my 
ship  into  port  first,  and  then  I  '11  run  and  overtake  you."  So  Lucy 
left  Nathan  on  the  steps  in  the  stable,  watching  Mr.  Bottom  weave, 


26  DOL\GS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

and  Phippy  by  the  trough  sailing  her  ship,  and  went  off  alone.  She 
had  her  doll  Sarah  in  her  arms,  —  though  she  called  her  "•  Salah," 
for  she  was  not  able  to  pronounce  her  r's  very  plainly.  She  walked 
down  a  path  which  led  past  a  little  arbor  covered  with  honey- 
suckle vine.  She  did  not  know  it,  but  there,  later  in  the  summer, 
she  was  to  see  humming-birds  darting  in  and  out.  The  path  led 
through  what  was  called  the  Grapery,  a  long  succession  of  arched 

trellises.     There  would  be  one  of  these  arches,  with  seats  on  either 

\ 

'side,  then  a  little  round  flower-bed,  about  which  the  path  turned, 
then  another  arch  with  seats,  then  another  flower-bed,  and  so  on. 
There  were  six  of  these  long  arches,  and  though  the  vines  were 
bare  of  leaves  now,  it  would  not  be  long  before  they  would  be 
covered  with  green  leaves,  and  then  later  with  clusters  of  Isabella 
grapes.  Lucy  thought  it  was  a  beautiful  arbor,  and  she  walked 
slowly  along,  every  once  in  a  while  stopping  to  sit  upon  one  of  the 
seats.  She  would  put  Salah  down  on  the  seat,  and  then  climb  up 
herself,  and  sit  with  her  little  legs  dangling. 

After  a  while  she  came  out  at  the  other  end  of  the  arbor  and 
then  she  was  in  the  orchard.  There  were  stubby  old  apple-trees 
that  had  low  boughs,  and  there  were  some  dead,  withered  little 
apples  that  had  lain  on  the  ground  all  winter,  but  she  did  not 
gather  any,  for  they  did  not  look  very  nice.  Beyond  the  orchard 
there  were  other  trees,  and  as  Lucy  walked  along,  she  heard  a 
fluttering  sound  and  a  soft  %)he-be.  phe-be.  It  was  a  chickadee  that 
was  building  its  nest  in  the  hollow  of  an  old  tree,  and  every  little 
while  it  would  stop  and  peep  forth,  gently,  phe-be,  phe-be.  In 
winter  the  little  bird  is  very  lively  and  brave,  and  then  it  chips 
forth  in  a  bright,  merry  way,  chickadee,  chickadee,  chickadee-dee. 
Lucy  stood  still,  as  the  little  brown  bird  flew  about. 


LUCY'S    WALK. 


27 


"  0   Salah."  she  whispered,  it 's   a   bird,  and   she  's   building   a 
nest."     Yes,  the  nest  was  building  in  the  old  tree,  and  almost  every 


The  Chickadee's    Nest. 


day  Lucy  walked  softly  to  the  place  and  stood  and  listened,  but  she 


28  DOINGS   (7F   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

was  such  a  gentle  little  girl  that  the  chickadees  were  never  afraid 
of  her,  and  at  last,  three  very  little  chickadees  looked  up  out  of  their 
nest,  while  the  parent  birds  told  them  of  a  little  girl  who  had  been 
there  so  often  to  watch  for  them. 

But  to-day  Lucy  walked  on  toward  what  was  called  The  Hollow, 
where  the  kitchen-garden  was.  She  kept  along  by  the  side  of  it, 
and  came  at  length  to  a  low  fence  which  separated  the  field  from 
a  pasture  beyond.  There  was  a  path  which  led  up  to  the  fence, 
and  a  break  in  the  fence,  where  the  path  crossed  into  the  pasture. 
Just  here  was  an  old  spring  which  bubbled  up  and  ran  into  a  hogs- 
head let  into  the  ground,  used  for  watering  the  cattle  that  were 
pastured  near  by.  They  had  worn  the  path  down  the  rocky  slope 
to  the  spring,  and  a  rude  bar  thrown  across  the  opening  in  the  fence 
prevented  them  from  crossing  into  the  field  and  so  getting  into  the 
hollow. 

As  Lucy  came  to  the  fence,  she  heard  a  noise,  and  looking 
through  saw  a  man,  a  little  girl,  and  a  monkey,  sitting  on  the 
ground  by  the  spring.  The  monkey  saw  her  first  and  ran  to  the 
man's  shoulder,  where  he  sat,  chuckling  at  her.  Lucy  stood  and 
looked  at  them.  She  saw  a  hand-organ  on  the  ground  and  she 
knew  that  these  must  be  organ-grinders.  She  had  seen  them  in 
the  city  streets,  but  to  find  them  out  here  in  the  country !  and  right 
by  her  father's  place !  The  little  girl  was  eating  some  bread,  and 
she  stared  hard  at  Lucy. 

"  Do  you  live  here  ?  "  asked  Lucy,  a  little  timidly,  of  the  girl. 

"  No,  miss,  we  're  only  resting." 

"  My  father  lives  here,"  said  Lucy.     "  We  've  moved  out." 

The  man  nodded. 

"Would  you  like  to  hear  a  tune,  little  girl?"  said  he. 


LISA   AND    HER    FATHER. 


LUCY'S    WALK.  .      31 

"Oh,  ever  so  much,"  said  Lucy;  and  so  he  set  his  organ  up  and 
turned  his  crank  and  ground  out  "  The  Boys  are  marching." 

"  Please  play  i  Three  little  Kittens,"  said  Lucy. 

"  That  tune  isn't  in  this  organ,"  said  the  man,  smiling. 

"  Why,  can't  you  play  anything  you  want  to  ?  "  said  Lucy,  aston- 
ished. "  My  mama  can." 

"  I  can  play  a  tune,"  said  the  little  girl,  "  and  I  can  dance,"  and 
she  shook  her  tambourine  and  danced  on  the  grass,  singing  aloud. 

"  Yes,  Lisa  is  a  good  girl,"  said  the  man.  "  She  can  sing,  and 
she  can  dance,  can't  she  ?  " 

"Are  you  her  father,  sir  ?"  asked  Lucy,  gravely. 

"  Yes,  I  'm  her  father.  I  've  got  another  little  girl,  about  as  big 
as  you." 

"  I  don't  think  I  should  like  to  go  about  in  the  streets,"  said  Lucy, 
who  had  been  thinking  about  it.  "  I  think  it  is  nicer  out  here.  I 
must  go  home  now.  Good-by,  Mr.  Organ-Grinder.  Good-by,  Lisa," 
and  she  nodded  her  head,  and  turned  away,  carrying  Salah  with 
her.  She  did  not  like  to  go  into  the  pasture,  and  she  wondered 
why  Philippa  and  Nathan  did  not  come.  She  turned  back  by  the 
way  she  had  come,  and  had  reached  the  top  of  the  hill,  when  she 
saw  the  other  children.  As  soon  as  they  caught  sight  of  her  they 
ran  toward  her. 

"  O  Lucy,"  said  Phippy,  "  where  have  you  been  ?  we  've  looked 
everywhere  for  you." 

"  I  went  there,"  said  Lucy,  pointing  with  her  hand,  "  and  there, 
and  I  saw  a  bird,  and  I  saw  a  monkey,  and  an  organ-man,  and  a  little 
girl,  and  the  little  girl  danced.  See,  there  they  go !  "  The  chil- 
dren looked  and  saw  the  man  with  his  organ  at  his  back  and  the 
monkey  perched  on  top,  with  the  little  girl  following  behind,  as  they 
made  their  way  across  the  field. 


32  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

"  Were  n't  you  frightened  ?  "  asked  Phippy. 

"  Why,  no,"  said  Lucy.  "  They  're  good  people*  They  wouldn't 
hurt  me." 

"  I  never !  "  said  Phippy.     "  I  should  have  been  scared." 

"  Just  let  me  catch  them  !  "  said  Nathan,  fiercely.  "  I  wish  I  had 
my  bow  and  arrows.  I  left  them  in  the  house." 

"  Come  !  "  said  Phippy,  "  mother  says  it 's  nearly  dinner  time  ; 
and,  Lucy,  you  haven't  an  idea  how  splendid  it  is  in  the  barn. 
I  'm  going  to  hunt  for  eggs  after  dinner.  I  do  hope  it  is  n't  going 
to  rain." 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  RAINY  DAY  IN  THE  BARN. 

IT  did  not  rain  immediately  after  dinner,  but  it  began  shortly 
before  night  and  it  rained  all  night,  and  the  next  morning  when 
the  children  woke  it  was  raining  still. 

"  I  am  afraid  we  can't  go  out  of  doors,"  said  Phippy,  mournfully. 

11  Oh  yes,  children,"  said  Mrs.  Bodley.  "  If  you  want  to  go  to 
the  barn  after  breakfast,  Martin  will  carry  you  over,  and  you 
can  have  a  good  time  playing  there  all  the  morning." 

"  I  should  like  to  ride  over  on  Mr.  Bottom,"  said  Nathan. 

"  Why,  it 's  only  across  the  yard,  Nathan,"  said  Phippy ;  "  be- 
sides, you  could  n't  ride." 

"  Yes,  I  could,"  said  the  little  boy. 

"  Well,  you  can  try  Martin's  back  first,"  said  his  mother.  So 
after  breakfast,  Martin,  who  was  a  good-natured  fellow,  came  to 
the  shed  and  brought  a  bushel  basket  with  him. 


THE  RAINY  DAY  IN   THE  BARN.  33 

"What's  that  basket  for?"  asked  Phippy. 

"That's  the  coach  you 're  to  ride  in,"  said  Martin.  He  put  her 
into  the  basket,  and  threw  a  water-proof  over  her. 

"  There  !  "  said  he,  lifting  the  basket  to  his  shoulder.  "  There  's 
an  ear  of  red  corn  in  that  bushel,  I  '11  warrant,"  and  he  strode  off 
to  the  barn,  while  Nathan  and  Lucy  and  their  mother  stood  at 
the  door  and  watched  them.  He  placed  the  basket  on  the  floor, 
took  away  the  cloak,  and  up  jumped  Phippy,  laughing,  and  began 
to  dance  on  the  smooth  barn  floor.  Martin  came  over  again,  and 
this  time  he  took  Nathan,  who  tumbled  about  so  in  the  basket 
that  he  nearly  upset  his  bearer.  Then  he  came  the  last  time  for 
Lucy. 

"  I  guess  I  '11  leave  the  basket  here,  Mis'  Bodley,"  said  he,  and 
he  caught  up  Lucy  in  his  arms,  threw  the  cloak  over  her,  and 
ran  as  fast  as  he  could  to  the  barn,  where  he  put  the  little  girl 
down  with  the  other  children ;  and  now  they  began  to  scamper 
about  and  to  laugh,  and  to  run  races  across  the  floor,  while  the 
rain  came  down  in  torrents  outside. 

They  watched  Martin  as  he  went  about  his  work,  and  Nathan 
grew  very  red  in  the  face  as  he  tugged  at  the  pitchfork  and  tried 
to  lift  a  bunch  of  hay  with  it. 

"Now,  Nathan,  just  leave  that  alone,"  said  Martin,  good- 
naturedly,  "or' you '11  be  running  those  prongs  into  something. 
Why,  up  at  my  father's  farm  in  New  Hampshire,  when  I  was  a 
little  boy,  I  thought  I  'd  run  some  hay  through  the  hay-cutter,  to 
make  some  chop-feed,  and  I  pushed  it,  and  jammed  it  in,  and 
kept  turning  the  wheel,  and  the  next  thing  I  knew  I  had  sliced 
off  the  end  of  one  of  my  fingers." 

"  Oh,"  screamed  Phippy,  "  did  you  find  the  piece  ?  " 


34  DOINGS   OF   THE  RODLEY  FAMILY. 

"  No,  that  I  did  n't,  though  I  swept  the  barn  floor  for  it.  I 
thought  if  I  could  find  it,  I'd  stick  it  on  again.  So  you 
mustn't  meddle  with  edge  tools."  They  all  looked  at  him  with 
a  little  awe,  and  Lucy  tried  to  see  his  finger  ends,  but  she  did  n't 
exactly  like  to  ask  him  to  show  them.  "  I  've  got  a  box  of  tools 
out  here,"  continued  Martin,  "  that  I  '11  show  you.  Some  day,  Na- 
than, I  '11  show  you  how  to  use  them."  Martin  was  very  proud  of 
his  tools,  and  he  took  the  children  to  a  little  light  closet  in  the 
barn,  where  he  kept  his  own  private  belongings,  and  opened  his 
chest,  and  showed  them  saws,  and  planes,  and  gimlets,  and  screw- 
drivers, and  a  spirit  level,  and  chisels,  and  all  manner  of  bright  and 
sharp  tools. 

"  Have  you  got  an  adze  ?  "  asked  Phippy. 

"  No,"  said  he,  looking  queerly  at  her,  "  I  have  n't.  What  made 
you  ask  ?  " 

"  Why  I  had  the  word  in  my  spelling-lesson  the  other  day,  and 
teacher  said  it  was  like  a  hatchet.  I  thought  I  should  like  to  see 
an  adze.  It  is  such  a  funny  looking  word." 

"  I  've  got  a  hatchet,"  said  Nathan,  "  and  you  can  draw  nails 
with  it.  I  '11  lend  it  to  you,  Martin,  some  time,  if  you  '11  be  care- 
ful. It  was  a  present  to  me."  Martin  laughed,  and  said  he  had 
a  hatchet. 

"  Why,  here 's  some  maple  sugar,"  said  Lucy,  who  had  not 
cared  much  about  the  tools  and  was  wandering  about  Martin's 
closet.  The  children  turned  to  her,  eagerly. 

"  Sure  's  you  're  alive,"  said  Phippy.     "  Is  it  yours,  Martin  ?  " 

"  I  guess  so,"  said  he.     "  I  made  that  sugar." 

"Why,"  said  Nathan  in  astonishment,  "do  you  know  how  to 
make  maple  sugar.  I  thought  it  had  to  be  made  by  black  men." 


THE  RAINY  DAY  IN  THE  BARN.  35 

"  Did  you  never  see  maple  sugar  made  !  Now,  I  tell  you,  you 
children  may  each  have  a  cake,  and  we  '11  go  up  into  the  hay- 
mow, and  I  '11  tell  you  all  about  it,  while  you  're  eating  it." 

"  Oh,  goody ! "  they  all  shouted,  and  one  after  another  they 
clambered  up  and  were  helped  up  by  Martin  until  they  were  all 
snugly  ensconced  in  the  hay. 

"You  see,"  said  Martin,  "  my  father  has  a  farm  up  in  Coos 
County,  New  Hampshire,  and  there  are  lots  of  maples  on  it,  and  our 
folks  have  made  sugar  for  ever  and  ever  so  long,  and  we  've  always 
made  it  in  the  old-fashioned  way.  We  'd  go  out  in  the  orchard  and 
cut  a  notch  in  the  side  of  a  sugar  maple,  and  drive  in  a  flat  piece 
of  wood,  tipped  down  just  a  little,  so  's  to  make  a  kind  of  gutter  for 
the  sap  to  run  down,  and  put  a  kind  of  trough  underneath  to  catch 
the  sap  when  it  dripped  off  the  gutter,  see  ?  " 

"  But  where  did  you  get  your  sap  ?  "  asked  Nathan. 

"  The  sap  ?  why,  the  sap  's  in  the  tree,  that 's  what  we  make  the 
sugar  of.  When  the  spring  begins  to  come,  before  the  snow  's  off 
the  ground,  the  sap  begins  to  start  in  the  trees,  and  it  just  creeps 
along  inside  and  runs  all  through  the  tree,  and  if  you  bore  a  hole 
and  tap  the  tree,  you  let  the  sap  out ;  the  tree  's  full  of  sap,  and  it 
can't  get  out,  see  ?  Now  if  you  were  up  in  the  country  in  sugar- 
ing time,  I  guess  you  little  folks  would  be  going  round,  tasting  the 
sap  as  it  came  out  the  tree." 

"  Well,  when  the  sap  's  got  to  running,  we  have  a  kind  of  hut  out 
in  the  bush,  and  we  build  a  fire  there,  and  hang  a  kettle  over  it, 
and  then  we  go  and  get  the  sap  that 's  in  the  troughs,  and  bring 
it  in  buckets  and  fill  the  kettle.  Many  's  the  time  Hen  and  I  have 
been  out  on  snow-shoes  to  get  it." 

"  Why  I  should  think  they  would  have  been  freezing  cold,"  said 
Phippy. 


36 


DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 


"  Cold  ?  they  were  n't  cold.  They  kept  our  feet  out  of  the  soft 
snow." 

"  But  I  should  n't  want  to  put  my  feet  right  into  snow  shoes,  it 
seems  to  me,"  said  Phippy,  looking  puzzled. 


Tasting  Sap. 


"Oh,"  said  Martin,  laughing,   "I  see   you  never  saw  a  pair   of 
snow-shoes,  did  you  ?  " 
"  No,"  said  Phippy. 
1  Well,  you  can't  buy  them  in  the  stores  round  here,  I  guess. 


MAKING    MAPLE   SUGAR. 


THE  RAINY  DAY  IN   THE  BARN.  39 

We  used  to  make  them.  They  're  flat  things,  made  by  twisting  a 
stick,  so  as  to  make  a  sort  of  bow,  with  the  ends  close  together,  and 
you  brace  it  with  a  couple  of  braces,  and  then  you  twine  cords 
back  and  forth  in  a  kind  of  net- work,  see  ?  They  look  a  little  like 
a  salt  fish  ;  and  you  slip  your  feet  into  a  noose  on  top  of  each,  and 
go  skimming  along  over  the  snow ;  but  if  you  're  not  used  to  them, 
you  stick  them  into  the  snow,  and  then  over  you  go." 

"  I  wish  you  'd  make  me  a  pair,"  said  Nathan. 

"  Well,  perhaps  I  will  next  winter.  Hen  and  I  used  to  make 
them.  Well,  now  you  put  the  sap  into  the  kettle  and  boil  it,  and 
you  boil  away  all  the  water  that 's  in  the  sap  and  you  get  a  thick 
syrup.  I  tell  you  it 's  great  fun,  tasting  it.  Somebody  has  to  be 
skimming  it  every  little  while  with  a  big  ladle,  to  get  the  scum 
off,  but  the  boys  and  girls  take  spoons  and  saucers  and  dip  a  little 
out  and  let  it  cool  and  then  try  it.  Then  when  it's  all  sugared1, 
off,  you  put  it  in  little  pans  and  let  it  harden.  You  make  maple 
wax  too,  by  pouring  the  syrup  before  you  sugar  off  on  to  the  snow 
and  stir  it  a  little  till  it 's  just  hard  enough  and  sticky  enough  to 
handle,  see  ?  " 

"Weren't  you  afraid  of  bears  out  there  in  the  woods?"  asked 
Nathan. 

'  Well,  there  were  bears,  and  I  saw  them  once  or  twice,  but  I 
guess  I  was  more  afraid  of  a  bob-cat  than  'most  anything  else." 

"  What 's  a  bob-cat  ?  "  asked  Phippy.  ;<  I  don't  think  I  should  be 
afraid  of  a  cat." 

"  Wait  till  you  see  one  out  in  the  woods,  with  a  little  tail  not 
much  bigger  'n  a  rabbit's,  and  a  head  like  a  cat's,  and  hear  him 
meaouw,  and  see  him  spring  like  a  painter." 

"  Oh  my  !  "  said  Lucy. 


10  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

'•  Hen  and  I  were  out  one  day  in  the  woods,"  continued  Martin, 
*  walking  along  a  narrow  path,  when  we  heard  a  bob-cat  coining 
towards  us.  We  had  n't  any  gun,  or  a  knife,  or  a  stick  even,  and 
there  wasn't  any  good  tree  to  climb.  Says  I,  (  Hen,  it  will  never  do 
to. turn  and  run  ;  the  cat '11  be  sure  to  chase  us.'  (  Let 's  stop  right 
here/  says  Hen,  '  and  stand  stock  still  and  look  at  him.  I  've  heard 
you  can  frighten  a  wild  beast  that  way.'  We  had  n't  any  time  to 
talk  about  it,  for  just  then  along  came  the  bob-cat,  trotting  down 
the  path  right  toward  us.  I  tell  you  I  felt  pretty  scared,  but  I  just 
stood  and  stared  right  at  the  beast,  and  Hen,  he  stared  at  the  beast, 
and  the  beast,  he  stood  stock  still  and  stared  at  us,  he  did.  I  felt 
my  heart  go  thump,  thump,  just  like  an  engine  inside  o'  me,  and  I 
daresn't  whisper,  even  to  Hen.  I  suppose  it  was  n't  more  'n  a  min- 
ute, but  it  seemed  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  before  any  of  us  moved ; 
then  the  bob-cat  gave  it  up  and  started  down  the  side  of  the  hill, 
making  a  great  yowling,  and  Hen  and  I,  we  turned  and  ran  home 
pretty  fast.  I  've  seen  bob-cats  since,  but  I  never  had  one  look  at 
me  so  hard." 

"  Let's  go  into  the  house,"  whispered  Lucy  to  Phippy. 

"  Why,  there-  are  n't  any  bob-cats  out  here  in  the  barn,"  said 
Martin. 

"  I  guess  they  would  n't  stay  here  long,  Martin,  would  they," 
said  brave  little  Nathan.  "  I  'd  get  my  bow  and  arrow  and  shoot 
them." 

"  Well,  now,"  said  Martin,  "  did  you  ever  see  a  fox  ?  " 

"  I  've  seen  pictures  of  them,"  said  Nathan. 

"  There  used  to  be  lots  of  them  about  our  farm,"  said  Martin. 
"  I  was  out  one  day  in  winter  with  my  gun,  and  I  saw  a  fox  chasing 
a  hare  ;  they  were  going  just  as  fast  as  they  could  go.  The  hare 


THE  RAINY  DAY  IN   THE  BARN.  43 

was  running  for  dear  life,  and  the  fox  was  running  for  the  dear 
hare.  There  was  a  light  snow  on  the  ground,  and  just  as  the  fox 
was  within  one  of  putting  his  paw  on  poor  Bunny,  I  shot  him ;  away 
flew  the  hare,  and  I  let  her  go.  I  thought  it  was  a  pity  to  shoot  her 
after  she  had  had  such  a  narrow  escape.  I  skinned  the  fox  and 
nailed  his  skin  on  our  barn  door.  They  used  to  get  our  hens  and 
chickens,  and  bothered  us  dreadfully." 

"  Oh,  I  know  a  story  about  a  fox  and  a  hen  !  "  cried  Phippy.  "  1 
learned  it  once  in  a  book  and  said  it  at  school." 

"  Oh  it's  a  real  funny  story,"  said  Lucy.     "  Do  tell  it,  Phippy." 

"  It 's  poetry,"  said  Phippy.  "  Would  you  like  to  hear  it,  Mar- 
tin ?  " 

"  Have  ye  the  pot  a-bilin'  ?  "  said  Nathan. 

"  Now,  Nathan,  don't  you  spoil  it.     It 's  my  story,"  said  Phippy. 

"  Let 's  hear  it,"  said  Martin.  So  Philippa  repeated  the  story,  as 
she  had  learned  it,  as  if  she  were  a  little  Irish  girl  brimful  of  fun. 

THE  STORY  OF   THE  LITTLE  RID  HIN. 

There  was  once't  upon  a  time 

A  little   small  rid   bin, 
Off  in   the  good   ould  country 

Where  yees  ha'  nivir  bin. 

Nice  and  quiet  shure   she   was, 

And  nivir  did  any  harrum ; 
She  lived  alane   all  be  herself, 

And  worked  upon  her  farrum 

There  lived  out  o'er  the  hill, 
In   a  great  din  o'  rocks, 


44 


DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

A  crafty,  shly,  and  wicked 
Ould  folly  iv  a  fox. 


This  rashkill  iv  a  fox, 

He  tuk  it  in  his  head 
He  'd  have  the  little  rid  hin : 

So,  whin  he  wint  to  bed, 

He  laid  awake  and  thaught, 
What  a  foine  thing  'twad  be 

To  fetch  her  home  and  bile  her  up 
For  his  ould  marm  and  he. 


And  so  he  tbaught  and  thaught, 

Until  he  grew  so  thin 
That  there  was  nothin'  left  of  him 

But  jist  his  bones  and  shkin. 

But  the  small  rid  hin  was  wise, 
She  always  locked  her  door, 

And  in  her  pocket  pit  the  key, 
To  keep  the  fox  out,  shure. 

But  at  last  there  came  a  schame 
Intil  his  wicked  head, 


THE  RAINY  DAY  IN   THE  BARN. 

And  he  tuk  a  great  big   bag 
And  to  his  mither  said,  — 


45 


Now  have  the  pot  all   bilin' 

Agin  the  time  I  come  ; 
We  '11  ate  the  small  rid  hin  to-night^ 

For  shure  I  '11  bring  her  home." 


And  so  away  he  wint 

Wid  the  bag  upon  his  back, 

An'  up  the  hill  and  through  the  woods 
Saftly  he  made  his  track. 

An'  thin  he  came  alang, 

Craping  as  shtill  's  a  mouse, 


46 


DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

To  where  the  little  small    rid  hin 
Lived  in  her  shnug  ould  house. 

An'  out  she  comes  herseF, 
Jist  as  he  got  in  sight, 
To  pick  up  shticks  to  make  her  fire : 
"Aha!"  says  fox,  "all  right. 

"  Begorra,  now,   I  '11  have  yees 

Widout  much  throuble  more;" 
An'  in  he  shlips  quite    unbeknownst, 
An'  hides  be'ind  the  door. 


An'  thin  a  minute  afther, 
In  comes  the  small  rid  hin, 

An'  shuts  the  door,  and  locks  it  too, 
An'  thinks,  "  I  'm  safely  in." 


An'  thin  she  tarns  around 
An'  looks  be'ind  the  door  ; 

There  shtands  the  fox  wid  his  big  tail 
Shpread  out  upon  the  floor. 

Dear  me !  she  was  so  schared 
Wid  such  a  wondrous  sight, 

She  dropped  her  apron-full  of  shticks, 
An'  flew  up  in  a  fright, 


THE   RAINY  DAY  IN  THE  BARN. 

An'  lighted  on  the  bame 

Across  on  top  the  room ; 
"  Aha !  "  says  she,  "  ye  don't  have  me, 
Ye  may  as  well  go  home." 


47 


"*  Aha  !  "  says  fox,  "  we  '11  see  ; 

I  'll  bring  yees  down  from  that." 
So  out  he  marched  upon  the  floor 
Right  under  where  she  sat. 

An'  thin  he  whiruled  around, 
An'  round  an'  round  an'  round, 

Fashter,  an'  fashter,    an'  fashter, 
Afther  his  tail  on  the  ground. 

Until  the  small  rid  hin 
She  got  so  dizzy,  shure, 

Wid  lookin'  at  the  fox's  tail, 
She  jist  dropped  on  the  floor. 

An'  ( fox  he  whipped  her  up, 
An'  pit  her  in  his  bag, 


DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

An'  off  he  started  all  alone, 
Him  and  his  little  dag. 


All  day  he  tracked  the  wood 

Up-hill  an'  down  again  ; 
An'  wid  him,  shmothrin  in  the  bag, 

The  little  small  rid  hin. 

Sorra  a  know  she  knowed 

Awhere   she  was   that  day  ; 
Says  she,  "  I  'm  biled  an'  ate  up,  shure, 

An'  what  '11  be  to  pay  ?  " 

Thin  she  betho't   hersel', 

An'  tuk  her  schissors  out, 
An'  shnipped  a  big  hole  in  the  bag, 

So  she  could  look   about. 


An'  'fore  ould  fox  could  think 
She  lept  right  out  —  she  did, 


THE   RAINY  DAY  IN   THE   BARN.  49 

An'  thin  picked  up  a  great  big  shtone,     , 
An'  popped  it  in   instid. 

An'  thin  she  rins  off  home, 

Her  outside  door    she  locks, 
Thinks  she,  "  You  see  you  don't  have  me. 

You  crafty,  shly,  ould  fox." 

An'  fox,  he  tugged  away 

Wid  the  great  big  hivy  shtone, 
Thimpin'  his  shoulders  very  bad 

As  he  wiut  in  alone. 

* 

An'  whin  he  came  in  sight 

O'  his  great  din  o'  rocks, 
Jist  watchin'  for  him  at  the  door 

He  shpied  ould  mither  fox. 

"  Have  ye  the  pot  a-bilin'  ?  " 
Says  he  to  ould  fox  thin  ; 
"  Shu  re  an'  it  is,  me  child,"  says  she ; 
"  Have  ye  the  small  rid  hin  ?  " 

"  Yes,  jist  here  in  me  bag, 

As  shure  as  I  shtand  here ; 
Open  the  lid  till  I  pit  her  in  : 
Open  it  —  niver  fear." 

So  the  rashkill  cut  the  sthring, 

An'  hild  the  big  bag  over  ; 
"  Now  when  I  shake  it  in,"  says  he, 
"  Do  ye  pit  on  the  cover." 

:<  Yis,  that  I  will  ;  "  an'  thin 

The  shtone  wint  in  wid  a  dash, 
4 


50 


DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

An'  the  pot  o'  bilin'  wather 
Came  over  them  ker-splash. 


An'  schalted  'em  both  to  death, 
So  they  could  n't  brathe  no  more  ; 

An'  the  little  small  rid  hin  lived  safe, 
Jist  where  she  lived  before. 

Martin  laughed,  and  laughed. 

"  Well,  now,"  said  he,  "  I  never.  I  'd  like  to  have  had  that  hen. 
I  '11  warrant  she  's  living  yet." 

"  Martin  !  children  !  "  came  a  voice  from  the  distance. 

'-'  Hark,  there 's  mother  calling,"  said  Nathan,  and  they  all  scram- 
bled down.  They  had  been  so  interested  in  their  stories,  that  they 
did  not  think  what  time  it  was,  and  now  they  found  that  the  rain 
had  stopped,  and  the  sun  was  shining  brightly.  It  was  nearly  din- 
ner time,  too,  so  the  children  went  back  to  the  house,  and  had  the 
hay-seed  brushed  out  of  their  hair. 


MA  Y-DA  Y. 


51 


CHAPTER  IV. 

MAY-DAY. 

HE  evening  of  the 
last  day  of  April, 
as  the  Bodley 
children  went  up- 
stairs to  bed,  Phip- 
py's  voice  could 
be  heard  above 
the  rest,  as  she 
sang  over  and  over  without  stop, 
—  "  Wake  me  early  early  mother 
for  I  'm  to  be  Queen  of  the  May." 
Lucy  threw  in  her  piping  voice 
to  the  same  words,  and  Nathan 
asserted  stoutly  that  he  was  to  be 
King  of  the  May.  It  was  their 
first  May-day  in  the  country,  and 
though  they  were  only  three  miles 
from  the  city  where  they  had  lived 
all  their  short  lives,  and  had  shiv- 
ered on  May-day  quite  as  much  as 
on  the  last  day  of  April,  yet  they 
were  in  the  country,  and  of  course 
May-day  would  be  beautiful  and 
warm,  and  everybody  would  dance  round  May-poles  just  as  they 
had  read  in  their  English  story-books. 


An  old    English    May-pole. 


52  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

Kindly  enough,  May-day  did  begin  fair.  It  was  as  lovely  a  day 
as  heart  of  child  could  desire.  The  sun  rose  gayly,  and  hurried 
away  the  light  clouds,  that  he  might  dry  the  grass,  and  warm  the 
damp  earth  ;  and  he  was  not  a  moment  too  early,  for  he  had  not 
yet  taken  the  chill  out  of  the  air  when  the  children  came  out  of 
the  shed  and  scampered  about  doing  their  little  chores  before  break- 
fast, that  they  might  be  ready  to  start  on  their  day's  excursion 
immediately  afterward.  There  were  the  hens  and  chickens  to  be 
fed ;  and  Nathan  with  the  corn  measure,  Phippy  with  a  tin  pan  of 
meal,  and  Lucy  with  a  watering-pot,  all  set  out  for  the  hen-house. 
They  raised  the  wooden  latch  of  the  white-washed  door,  and  all 
crowded  in  to  the  hen-house,  shutting  the  door  after  them  before 
any  of  the  fluttering  family  should  fly  out  over  their  heads.  There 
were  one  or  two  hens  still  setting,  and  they  only  peeked  at  them 
on  tiptoe,  and  then  went  into  the  yard,  which  was  surrounded  by 
high  palings.  An  old  apple-tree  stood  in  the  middle,  never  known 
to  bear  more  than  a  scanty  half-dozen  pinched  and  crabbed  little 
apples ;  but  it  was  a  tree,  and  made  the  hen  yard  look  like  a  good 
place  for  hens  to  live  in.  The  ground  was  riddled  with  the  scratches 
of  countless  hens,  and  one  would  think  that  not  a  worm  would 
ever  dare  to  show  his  head  above  the  ground.  The  hens  and 
roosters  fluttered  about,  picking  up  the  corn  that  the  children 
scattered,  all  of  them  running  hastily  after  each  handful,  as  if  this 
time  they  were  going  to  get  something  especially  good,  though  a 
few  prudent  ones  remained  busily  picking  over  the  last  scatter. 
Lucy  poured  some  water  into  the  little  trough,  and  then  they  went 
out  and  mixed  some  meal  and  water  for  the  chickens.  It  was  pretty 
to  see  these.  The  mother  anxiously  clucking  and  moving  back  and 
forth  under  her  coop,  while  the  chickens,  stretching  out  their  pudgy 


MA  Y-DA  Y.  53 

wings,  would  come  streaming  to  the  coop  for  breakfast.  One  little 
fellow,  too /at  to  run  Between  the  slats,  was  squeezed  there,  sticking 
his  drumsticks  vigorously  into  the  ground  behind  him,  and  peeping 
piteously  until  Lucy  poked  him  through,  and  then  he  wanted  to 
come  right  out  again,  for  he  seemed  just  to  have  discovered  that 
the  cold  hasty-pudding  was  outside. 

"  I  wonder  if  they  would  n't  like  some  syrup  on  their  hasty- 
pudding,"  said  Phippy.  "  I  should  think  it  would  choke  them. 
Look  at  that  little  dear  !  she  can't  get  it  down." 

"  It 's  the  turkey  chick,"  said  Nathan.  "  That 's  the  only  turkey 
chick  we  've  got.  I  don't  see  why  the  turkey  eggs  don't  hatch 
better.  Oh,  she  's  dying  !  " 

"  Oh,  he  's  dead,  he's  dead  !  "  cried  Lucy,  as  the  turkey  chick, 
from  some  mysterious  internal  disease,  or  more  likely,  because  too 
greedy,  fell  over  and  gasped  once  or  twice. 

"  We  must  bury  him,"  said  Phippy  with  great  promptness.  "We 
must  bury  him,  and  cover  him  with  rose  leaves,  and  have  a  box 
with  a  velvet  lining,  and  a  procession.  I  've  read  all  about  it  in 
some  story.  And  then  we  must  put  a  chip  over  him.  Come." 

"-It  is  n't  a  him,"  said  Nathan.  "  It  's  a  shim,  —  a  she  I  mean,  I 
don't  see  why  turkey  eggs  won't  hatch.  It 's  real  mean,"  and  he 
looked  rather  angrily  at  the  poor  little  turkey  chick  that  Lucy  had 
taken  up  and  was  smoothing  down.  "  I  don't  want  to  bury  her. 
She  has  n't  done  anything  worth  being  buried  for.  She  has  n't  got 
any  soul.  She  's  a  little  heathen." 

"0  Nathan,  heathens  have  souls,"  said  Lucy.  "You  mustn't 
say  that.  They  have  real  souls." 

"  Yes,"  said  Phippy,  "  first-rate  ones,  and  we  '11  call  the  turkey 
chick  a  heathen,  and  bury  her;  and,  oh,  I  tell  you  what  —  we'll 


54  DOINGS  OF  THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

throw  things  at  her.  I  mean,  we  '11  play  she 's  in  the  Ganges, 
and  her  mother  comes  and  shrieks  out,  and  throws  herself  on  the 
burning  pile,  this  way,"  and  Phippy  threw  up  her  arms,  and  uttered 
a  very  shrill  shriek.  But  just  then  the  breakfast-bell  rang. 

"  I  tell  you  what,"  said  Phippy,  who  had  a  new  plan  every  min- 
ute. "  We  '11  take  her  out  to  the  Grove  with  us,  and  bury  her  in 
the  gorge,  and  we  '11  pretend  she  was  an  Indian  warrior,  and  I  '11  say, 
1  Not  a  drum  was  heard,  nor  a  funeral  note,'  "  and  so  coming  up  to 
the  house,  they  put  the  little  chick  away  behind  the  trough  until 
after  breakfast. 

"  Well,  children,"  said  Mr.  Bodley  at  the  table,  "  what  do  you 
mean  to  do  on  May-day  ?  " 

"  Oh,  we  're  going  to  the  Grove,"  said  Phippy,  "  and  we  're  going 
to  be  gone  all  day.  May  be  we  shall  build  a  house,  and  live  there, 
and  you  can  come  and  see  us,  and  bring  mother  if  you  want  to,  and 
we  're  going  to  bury  the  turkey  chick." 

"The  turkey  chick?." 

"  Yes,"  said  Nathan,  with  his  mouth  full.  "  She  wempt  n'bibe 
this  morm." 

"  What  ?  " 

"  She  went  and  died  this  morning  at  half-past  six.  Father,  I 
don't  see  why  I  can't  raise  turkeys.  We  can't  have  any  at  Thanks- 
giving now,  and  I  meant  to  raise  a  roast  turkey." 

"Well,  there  's  your  pig,"  said  Mr.  Bodley.  "  That  will  last  all 
winter." 

"  Oh,  my  pig  !  "  said  Nathan,  starting  up.  "  I  forgot  my  pig. 
Mother,  may  I  go  out  and  feed  my  pig  ?  I  forgot  all  about  him 
when  that  old  turkey  died,  and  then  the  bell  rang." 

"  Eat  your  breakfast  first,  and  then  you  can  finish  feeding  all  the 


MA  Y-DA  Y.  55 

cattle  before  you  go  to  the  .Grove."  The  cattle  was  the  name  given 
to  Nathan's  pig  and  rabbits,  and  the  hens  and  chickens.  The  pig 
belonged  to  him,  for  he  had  bought  it  with  his  own  money,  and  he 
fed  it  every  day,  and  cherished  it  as  his  special  delight.  Even  the 
pair  of  rabbits  which  had  been  given  to  him  were  not  quite  so  dear 
to  him  as  his  own  pig,  which  he  had  bought  with  his  own  money, 
and  was  fattening  up  for  the  winter,  when  his  father  had  promised 
to  buy  him  if  he  was  fat  enough.  The  pig-sty  was  a  neat  place  back 
of  the  barn.  The  little  house  was  clean  and  tidy,  and  the  sty  be- 
tween the  pig-house  and  stable  was  fenced  in  by  a  tall  board  fence, 
which  was  painted,  and  covered  with  a  pretty  rose  vine.  When  the 
time  of  roses  came,  the  fence  was  covered  with  the  bright  flowers ; 
but  they  had  no  other  name  with  the  children  than  pig-sty  roses : 
they  smelt  just  as  sweet,  however,  with  that  name.  Nathan  could 
just  jump  up  so  as  to  catch  hold  of  the  top  of  this  wooden  wall,  and 
then  he  would  struggle,  pulling  himself  up,  with  his  toes  knocking- 
against  the  boards,  'and  his  knees  scraping,  until,  with  a  very  red 
face  he  would  peer  over  the  top;  and  piggy  hearing  the  noise,  would 
come  grunting  out,  and  stare  for  a  moment  at  the  little  boy  who 
thought  so  much  of  him,  and  who  could  only  keep  his  place  a  mo- 
ment, and  then  went  rasping  down  the  boards  to  the  ground. 

This  morning,  after  the  pig  was  fed,  and  the  rabbits  too,  the  chil- 
dren set  out  to  spend  their  May-day  in  the  Grove.  Nathan  carried 
his  bow  and  arrows,  a  hatchet,  and  a  long  bean-pole  which  trailed' 
behind  him  ;  Phippy  had  a  covered  basket  which  must  have  beeni 
very  important,  for  she  would  let  nobody  look  inside  of  it ;  and  very 
heavy  too,  since  she  changed  hands  every  little  while ;  Lucy  had  her 
doll  Salah  in  her  arms,  and  she  carried  also  the  little  turkey  chick, 
while  Lucy's  kitty  scampered  along  with  them. 


56  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

\ 

The  Grove  was  a  little  clump  of  walnut-trees  which  stood  on  a 
rocky  slope  at  the  farther  end  of  the  place  where  the  Bodleys  lived. 
The  whole  place  contained  about  thirty  acres,  besides  a  large  piece 
of  pasture-land,  but  only  seven  acres  were  owned  by  Mr.  Bodley. 
The  rest  of  the  land,  however,  was  just  as  free  for  the  children  to 
play  in,  and  indeed  was  not  fenced  off  from  their  own  lot.  They 
had  discovered  this  grove  to  their  great  delight,  and  thought  it  a 
most  wonderful  piece  of  woods.  A  few  bushes  scrambled  about,  and 
there  were  little  ledges  of  rocks  as  much  as  ten  feet  high,  where  one 
could  jump  off,  besides  one  great  boulder,  not  at  all  easily  to  be 
climbed,  which  they  called  Samson's  Nut-cracker.  Then  there  was  a 
mysterious  ravine  running  down  between  some  rocks,  closely  hedged 
about  with  barberry  bushes.  They  had  never  gone  far  into  it ;  I 
think  they  were  just  a  little  afraid.  They  called  it  The  Gorge, 
which  sounded  very  mysterious  to  them,  "just  like  a  great  throat," 
said  Phippy,  "  that  could  swallow  us  up  if  we  went  down."  Beyond 
the  Grove  and  the  Gorge  was  a  gentle  slope,  and  beyond  that  lay  a 
road,  while  on  the  right  the  rocky  pasture  began,  and  there  they 
.had  not  yet  ventured. 

It  was  at  the  Grove  that  they  meant  to  spend  the  May-day  ;  and 
'they  had  found  a  sheltered  cranny  in  the  ledge,  where  they  meant 
to  build  their  house,  and  live  the  livelong  day.  A  walnut-tree  grew 
close  by,  and  a  big  rock,  not  so  large  as  Samson's  Nut-cracker 
though,  protected  them  on  the  side  toward  the  road.  The  leaves 
from  the  walnut-tree  had  quite  choked  up  the  cranny,  and  Nathan 
announced  that  they  must  first  clear  away  the  underbrush. 

"  That  is  the  way  they  always  do  in  new  settlements,"  said  he. 
"  They  cut  down  trees  and  clear  away  the  underbrush,  and  then 
they  build  a  house.  We  '11  let  this  tree  stand  for  the  present,"  he 


THE   REAL    ROBINSON    CRUSOE. 


MAY-DAY.  59 

added  kindly,  and  then  throwing  off  his  jacket,  he  took  up  his 
hatchet  and  fell  to  cutting  and  dashing  away  at  the  twigs  and  little 
branches  that  stuck  out  in  their  cave.  They  pulled  out  the  leaves, 
but  left  enough  to  make  a  soft  cushion  on  the  ground,  and  were 
surprised  to  find  that  a  crack  in  the  ledge,  where  the  leaves  had 
gathered,  reached  in  farther  than  they  could  see  or  feel. 

"  That  will  be  good  in  case  of  danger,"  said  Phippy.  "  It  is  an 
underground  passage,  and  comes  out  on  the  other  side  of  the  ledge. 
No,  it  is  n't ;  it 's  a  place  to  store  provisions  in.  No  it  is  n't  either  ; 
it 's  our  children's  bedroom,"  and  she  proceeded  to  stow  the  dolls  in 
it  upon  a  temporary  bed  of  leaves.  "  They  must  endure  privations," 
she -said.  "We  are  in  a  new  country,  and  cannot  expect  the  luxu- 
ries of  home.  Children,"  she  went  on,  "  if  you  ever  miss  me  from 
home,  don't  be  uneasy.  You  may  know  that  I  am  safely  hidden  in 
the  cave.  I  shall  have  a  barrelcade  at  the  entrance,  to  prevent  wild 
animals  from  getting  in,  ting  a  tang,  ting  a  tang,  0  poor  Robinson 
Crusoe.  Then  there  will  be  a  book  written  about  The  Wonderful 
Adventures  of  Philippa  Bodley,  with  illustrations." 

"  Nathan,  Phippy,"  said  Lucy,  seriously,  "  we  have  n't  buried  the 
turkey  chick  yet." 

"  Oh,  bother  the  turkey  chick,"  said  Nathan.  "  We  ought  to 
buikl  a  fort  to  keep  out  the  Indians." 

"  No,  Nathan,  it  is  n't  right.  We  must  bury  the  turkey  chick 
first." 

*•'  I  tell  you  what,"  said  Phippy,  who  was  never  at  a  loss  for  tak- 
ing advantage  of  each  turn.  "  We  '11  bury  the  turkey  chicjc,  and 
Nathan  will  protect  us  with  his  bow  and  arrows.  He  will  give  the 
alarm  if  the  Indians  are  coming,  and  then  we  '11  hurry  back  to  the 
house,  and  bar  the  door,  and  shoot  out  of  the  window,  and  you  and 


60  DOINGS   OF   THE  RODLEY  FAMILY. 

I,  Lucy,  will  bring  cartridges  in  our  aprons.  I  've  seen  a  picture 
just  like  it." 

So  it  was  decided,  and  they  looked  about  for  a  good  place  to  bury 
the  turkey  chick  in. 

"  This  the  first  one  of  the  family,"  said  Phippy,  "  and  she  can  't 
expect  much  of  a  funeral,  or  much  of  a  seminary  either.  Oh,  here  's 
a  beautiful  place  !  " 

It  was  a  shady  copse  into  which  the  children  peeped.  A  few 
bushes  straggled  around  it  as  if  they  had  been  set  there  to  keep  off 
intruders,  but  were  getting  rather  negligent.  A  low  brick  wall 
about  six  feet  long,  and  a  foot  and  a  half  above  ground,  stood  there ; 
some  of -the  bricks  had  fallen  out,  and  it  was  moss-covered  and 
stained.  The  children  looked  on  in  wonder.  Then  light  broke  on 
them,  and  they  all  exclaimed,  — 

"  Why  it's  a  tomb!  " 

Yes,  an  old  tomb,  or  at  least  a  grave  of  some  sort,  with  the 
little  old  brick  wall  that  looked  like  a  head  board  to  the  old  bed  in 
which  some  sleeper  had  been  lying,  evidently  for  many  years.  They 
drew  nearer,  and  discovered  a  gray  tablet,  with  the  letters  and  date, 
P.  B.  1675. 

"  Here  is  the  place  to  bury  her  in,"  said  Nathan. 

"Yes,  and  P.  B.  1675;  that  will  do  for  Poor  Biddy,  1675  seconds 
old,"  said  Phippy,  promptly. 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Lucy,  a  little  awe-struck,  "  I  don't  think 
I  would  bury  her  here." 

"Yes,  I  would,"  said  Phippy.  "We'll  put  her  under  one  of  the 
bushes.  It's  a  weeping  willow  " 

So  they  buried  the  little  chick  under  a  weeping  willow  barberry 
bush,  and  Nathan  was  so  interested  that  he  forgot  their  danger  from 


MAY-DAY.  61 

Indians,  until  suddenly  the  sound  of  voices  made  them  start  up  and 
leave  the  little  chick  only  half  covered. 

"  Indians  !  "  whispered  Nathan.     "  Run  !  quick  !  " 

The  little  girls  gave  a  scared  look  through  the  bushes,  and  saw, 
coming  across  the  grass,  a  company  that  they  could  not  make  out 
exactly,  but  there  was  a  flag,  and  something  red ;  they  did  not  look 
twice,  but  ran  as  fast  as  they  could  to  the  cave,  which  they  could 
reach  indeed  without  being  seen.  Nathan,  too,  came  scrambling 
after,  trying  to  fix  an  arrow  into  his  bow-string,  and  stumbling  over 
sticks  and  stones  as  he  went. 

"  Keep  still,  keep  perfectly  still,"  said  he,  .when  they  were  all 
safely  in  the  cave.  "  I  am  going  out  to  reconnoitre." 

"  I  'm  glad  we  've  got  provisions  enough  to  last,"  chattered 
Phippy,  who  was  half  frightened  at  what  might  be  coming,  and  half 
believed  her  own  fancy  that  they  were  Indians.  Nathan  cautiously 
peeped  round  the  rock,  but  could  see  nothing.  Then  he  lay  down, 
and  dragged  himself  over  the  ground  with  his  bow  and  arrow,  till 
he  was  very  red  in  the  face,  and  very  dirty.  At  last  he  got  where 
he  could  see  the  company.  It  was  a  party  of  large  boys,  all  dressed 
in  red  flannel  shirts,  and  carrying  a  banner  which  bore  the  motto, 
"  All  work  and  no  play  makes  Jack  a  dull  boy."  They  had  a  drum 
and  a  fife,  and  were  marching  along,  directly  toward  the  Grove. 
Nathan  scrambled  back  to  the  cave  and  whispered  to  Phippy  and 
Lucy.  Lucy  covered  the  dolls  up  with  leaves,  and  made  Kitty  keep 
perfectly  still  in  her  lap,  while  she  sat,  her  little  heart  beating  as 
the  dreadful  boys  came  nearer  and  nearer.  Phippy  was  too  excited 
to  sit  still.  She  whispered  first  to  Nathan  and  then  to  Lucy,  looked 
to  see  if  the  baskets  were  well  hidden,  proposed  first  that  they 
should  climb  the  tree,  then  that  Nathan  should  hold  a  parley. 


62  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

"  Hold  a  parley,  Nathan  ;  they  always  do,"  she  shouted  in  a  whis- 
per ;  "  go  out  with  a  white  flag.  Here  's  my  pocket-handkerchief. 
No,  I  tell  you  "  - 

At  this  moment  an  unearthly  whoop  from  one  of  the  boys  made 
their  hearts  stop.  Then  there  was  a  shout  and  a  rush,  and  when 
Nathan  peeped  out  again,  the  Jacks  and  their  banner  were  stream- 
ing down  the  road  at  a  great  pace,  following  their  leader,  a  young- 
ster with  a  prodigious  power  of  lungs,  who  was  whooping  them  on, 
no  one  knew  whither. 

"  Oh,  what  a  narrow  escape  !  "  said  Phippy.  "  My  husband  !  my 
children  !  let  us  look  after  our  cattle,  to  see  if  they  are  safe ;  "  and 
the  little  girl  ran  out  in  great  excitement,  followed  by  the  others, 
who  capered  about  in  great  glee,  while  kitty  scampered  back  and 
forth  amongst  them.  Then  they  set  up  their  May-pole,  but  they 
could  find  few  flowers,  save  a  few  columbines  that  grew  by  the 
ledge,  and  these  they  tied  round  the  pole,  not  knowing  exactly  how 
a  May-pole  was  crowned.  They  took  turns  in  being  Queen,  except 
Nathan,  who  was  King.  They  could  not  well  join  hands  in  dancing 
round  each  other,  but  they  danced  just  as  hard  ;  and  when  they 
made  kitty  Queen,  and  tried  to  dance  round  her,  they  got  into  a 
great  frolic,  and  scampered  laughing  all  over  the  field,  for  their 
Queen  was  very  capricious,  and  led  her  subjects  a  fine  life  of  it. 

When  noon  came  they  had  their  dinner.  They  spread  the  table 
on  a  flat  rock  near  the  mouth  of  the  cave,  and  imagined  all  sorts  of 
wonderful  things  while  they  were  eating.  Then  they  found  some 
dead  boughs  and  sticks,  and  finished  their  house  by  making  a  sort 
of  roof  for  it,  which  they  covered  with  a  loose  thatch  of  leaves. 

"  Now  our  house  is  built,"  said  Nathan ;  "  we  are  in  a  settled 
country,  and  there  are  no  more  dangers." 


MAY-DAY.  63 

"  Oh  yes,  there  are,"  said  Phippy.  "  We  are  in  danger  from  the 
British.  They  may  come  at  any  time  and  burn  our  house  down." 

"  And  the  Mexicans,  too,"  said  Lucy ;  for  it  was  then  not  long 
after  the  war  with  Mexico,  and  the  children  heard  enough  of  the 
newspapers  to  have  their  heads  filled  with  fighting. 

"  Then  we  '11  figh-t  for  our  liberty,"  said  Nathan. 

"  '  Strike  —  for  your  altars  and  your  fires.' 
How  does  the  next  line  go,  Phip  ?  " 

" '  Strike  —  for  the  green  graves  of  your  sires  ! ' 

0  Nathan,'!  tell  you,  we  must  defend  the  tomb.  The  British  are 
coming,  and  we  must  take  up  our  last  stand  there.  Come,  quick !  " 
and  away  rushed  the  children  to  the  little  copse  where  poor  Biddy 
lay  half  buried,  and  wholly  forgotten,  while  they  got  down  behind 
the  old  brick  wall  and  fired  at  imaginary  British  coming  up. 

"  I  '11  be  the  British  army,"  said  Phippy.  "  You  must  n't  fire  till 
you  see  the  whites  of  my  eyes,"  and  she  darted  out  of  the  copse, 
and  presently  came  prancing  up  to  the  tomb,  like  a  whole  British 
army  on  horseback. 

"  Fire  !  "  shouted  Nathan,  and  carried  away  by  his  excitement, 
he  really  shot  off  his  arrow,  which  whizzed  dangerously  near  Phippy. 

"  Here,  here ! "  said  Mr.  Bodley,  who  had  come  up,  unseen  by 
the  children,  while  Mrs.  Bodley  was  following  across  the  grass. 
"  This  is  rather  dangerous  sport,  Nathan." 

"  0  father,  I  did  n't  mean  to  fire,  but  the  arrow  went  right  off. 
It  's  a  gun,  and  Phippy  is  the  British,  and  Lucy  and  I  are  defending 
the  grave  of  our  sires.  We  've  made  our  last  stand  here,  sir." 

"  Well,  well,  we  've  done  quarreling  with  the  British  now.  Just 
see  here,  Sarah,"  to  Mrs.  Bodley,  who  was  now  looking  in  upon  the 


64  DOINGS   OF   THE   BODLEY  FAMILY. 

group ;  "  the  children  have  been  playing  at  fighting  the  British  over 
old  Paul  Bodley's  grave." 

"  Paul  Bodley  !  "  exclaimed  Phippy.  "  Is  P.  B.  Paul  Bodley,  and 
was  he  "  — 

"  To  be  sure  he  was.  He  was  your  great,  great,  great,  great- 
grandfather." 

"  Why,  papa,  did  he  use  to  live  here  where  we  live  ?  " 

"  Yes,  he  lived  by  the  ledge  back  there,  but  there  is  no  trace  of 
his  house  .there  now.  Here  he  lived,  and  here  he  died  and  was 
buried,  and  his  sons  lived  here  afterward,  until  the  Revolution.  Do 
you  want  to  hear  about  the  old  gentleman  ?  " 

"  Oh,  do  tell  us  right  here." 

"  Not  now,"  said  Mrs.  Bodley.  "  It 's  growing  late.  But  after 
tea  I  rather  think  papa  will  tell  you  a  little,  if  you  are  not  too 
sleepy." 

Then  Mr.  Bodley  took  Lucy  up  on  to  his  shoulder,  and  they  set 
out  for  the  house,  a  merry  procession.  It  still  lacked  a  half  hour 
of  tea  time,  but  it  was  a  pleasant,  warm  afternoon,  and  the  children 
sat  upon  the  door-step  looking  out  upon  the  locust-trees  and  the 
lawn,  and  talking  about  their  day's  sport. 

"  I  should  n't  wonder,"  said  Lucy,  "  if  that  Grove  were  a  place 
where  the  Fairies  went  sometimes." 

"  I  think,"  said  Phippy,  "  that  they  like  mountains  best :  no,  I 
don't  either,  I  think  they  like  to  live  like  Will  o'  the  Wisp  in  the 
meadows  ;  yes  I  do  too.  I  've  read  somewhere  about  fairies  in  the 
mountains.  Let 's  ask  mama."  So  mama  was  called  and  she 
told  them  the  story  of — 


MAY-DAY. 


65 


THE  FOUR  QUEER  ELVES- 

Rufliecumtuffle  and  Floppytyfly, 
Bibbetybobble  and  Kickittygo, 
Were  four  queer  elves 
Who  lived  by  themselves 
On  a  mountain  high, 
And  scorned  the  fairies  that  dwelt  below. 


But  Rufflecumtuffle  was  a  real  dandy, 
With  whiskers  flowing  wide  and  sandy; 
And  had  wonderful  wings 
Painted  with  gold  and  scarlet  rings; 
And  he  longed  to  dance  in  the  fairies'  hall, 
For  het  knew  he  must  outshine  them  all. 
5 


66 


DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

So  Rufflecumtuffle  determined  to  go, 

And  did  not  mean  that  the  others  should  know. 

He  sought  for  a  steed, 

To  take  him  down  the  mountain  with  speed ; 
His  long-tailed  mouse  that  pranced  so  gay 

Had  stolen  away. 

So  he  had  to  harness  an  honest  toad 

To  his  mushroom  car,  and  take  the  road. 

Twice  on  the  way,  his  car  broke  down  ; 

And  while  he  patched  it  with  sticks  and  things,   . 

He  was  heard  to  say,  "  By  black  and  by  brown," 

He  was  tempted  to  take  to  his  wings. 

But  safely  he  reached  the  fairies'  hall, 

And  was  kindly  and  gayly  greeted  by  all. 


Now  Bibbetybobble  and  Kickittygo  and  Floppytytly. 

Were  terribly  sly,  — 

When  they  found  themselves  on  the  mountain  alone, 
They  guessed  where  Rufflecumtuffle  had  gone, 

And  wanted  to  go  themselves, 

The  silly,  comical  elves  ! 


MAY-DAY.  07 

So  they  harnessed  a  turtle  safe  and  slow 
To  their  family  coach,  and  Kickittygo 
Held  the  reins  and  flourished  the  whip  ; 
And  down  with  many  a  bump  and  slip 
They  rode,  till  they  reached  the  fairies'  hall, 
And  were  kindly  greeted  and  welcomed  by  all. 

Rufflecumtuffle  was  striding  about 

With  his  head  thrown  back,  and  his  chest  thrown  out, 

And  held  himself  so  stiff  and  prim 

That  the  fairies  would  surely  have  laughed  at  him 

If  they  had  not  been  quite 

Too  good  and  polite. 

He  had  danced  and  danced  with  the  prettiest  fay, 
And  twisted  his  mustache  every  way, 

And  paraded  his  wings 

With  the  gold  and  scarlet  rings, 

And  felt  so  vain  and  proud, 

That  he  almost  chuckled  aloud. 

But  when  he  saw  his  brothers  three 
Come  rubbing  their  hands  with  elvish  glee, 

With  shame  and  dismay 

He  almost  fainted  away. 

But  a  fairy  flew 

For  a  cup  of  the  strongest  perfumed  dew, 
And  gave  him  to  drink ;    and  they  brought  sweet  w'ne 
Out  of  the  red-horned  columbine; 
And  passed  it  around  to  the  elves, 

Who  then  straitway 

Became  so  gay, 

That  they  hardly  knew  how  to  contain  themselves  ; 
And  when  the  ravishing  music  began, 
The  fairy  flutes  and  viols  sweet, 


DOINGS    OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

Then  it  was  that  each  elvish  man 
Felt  such  a  lightness  iii  his  feet, 
That,  snatching  the  hand  of  the  nearest  fay, 
Round  they  whisked  in  the  wildest  dance,  — 
Oh !  I  wish,  I  wish  you  had  been  that  way 
To  see  them  curvet  and  see  them  prance. 
Bibbetybobble  tumbled  about 
Just  like  a  fat  old  humble  bee ; 
Floppytyfly  you  could  hardly  see, 


He  went  so  fast ;  and  Kickittyg'o,  — 

His  legs  like  the  spokes  of  a  wheel  rayed  out  ; 

And  Rufflecumtuffle,  —  you  never  will  know 

How  he  danced,  for  I  never  can  tell ; 

And  oh  !  't  was  a  wonderful  sight  for  me ; 

And  if  ever  again 

The  elvish  men 
With  the  fairies  dance,  you  must  go  and  see. 

The  children  all  laughed  merrily  over  this  and  called  each  other 
by  the  names  as  well  as  they  could,  for  some  time.     The  sun  went 


MICE,  RATS,    AND  BIGGER   ANIMALS.  69 

down  on  three  tired  little  children,  and  the  story  about  Paul  Bodley 
and  his  grandchildren  was  not  told  them  that  night,  but  they  did 
not  fail  to  ask  for  it  until  they  got  it. 


CHAPTER  V. 

MICE,  .RATS,    AND    BIGGER    ANIMALS. 

NATHAN  had  a  birthday  on  the  twentieth  of  May,  and  for  a  present 
a  wonderful  little  house  with  white  mice  living  in  it.  This  house 
had  belonged  to  an  aunt  of  Nathan's  who  had  long  been  sick  and  un- 
able to  leave  her  room,  and  she  kept  it  with  the  mice  to  amuse  her. 
Now  she  was  going  away  on  a  long  journey  to  Europe,  and  as  she 
had  often  amused  Nathan  when  he'  came  to  see  her,  by  showing  him 
the  mice,  she  thought  she  would  give  him  the  house  and  the  mice, 
quite  sure  that  he  would  take  good  care  of  them.  A  house  that  can 
go  on  a  table  is  worth  having,  for  though  you  cannot  go  inside  of  it 
yourself,  you  can  move  it  about  where  you  want  it,  and  that  is  more 
than  you  can  do  with  a  large  house. 

Nathan's  house  was  called  Mouse  Castle,  and  in  Mouse  Castle  lived 
two  white  mice.  There  were  two  stories  to  Mouse  Castle.  In  the 
first  story,  on  the  ground  floor,  was  their  large  hall  in  which  they 
could  race  about.  There  was  a  door  at  the  end,  and  when  Nathan 
or  Phippy  wished  to  feed  the  mice  they  brought  crackers  to  the  door 
and  gave  them  little  bits  which  they  took  inside.  Then  there  was  a 
little  wire  ladder  which  led  from  the  floor  of  the  hall  to  a  long;  ffal- 

O     O 

lery  which  looked  down  upon  the  hall.     At  the  end  of  the  gallery 


70 


DOINGS   OF   THE  BbDLEY  FAMILY. 


was  their  bedroom.  Some  bits  of  cotton  had  been  given  them,  and 
they  had  pulled  it  to  pieces  and  made  a  soft  bed  of  it.  From  the 
gallery  there  was  another  wire  ladder  which  ran  up  into  what  was 
called  the  Pavilion,  and  the  hole  where  it  popped  out  was  sur- 
rounded by  a  wire  balustrade.  The  Pavilion  was  an  open  hall, 
roofed  over,  with  a  balcony  in  front,  and  a  gate  to  close  .the  bal- 


Mouse  Castle. 


cony,  but  sometimes  the  gate  was  open,  and  a  little  ladder  was 
fastened  to  the  front,  up  and  down  which  the  mice  could  run.  But 
what  they  liked  best  to  do,  was  to  run  through  their  attic  cham- 
ber to  a  revolving  wire  wheel  at  the  farther  end  and  go  round  and 
round  on  it,  as  fast  as  it  could  be  made  to  whirl.  It  was  odd, 


MICE,   RATS,   AND  BIGGER  ANIMALS.'  71 

though,  that  only  one  of  the  mice  would  play  in  the  wheel  at  a  time. 
They  tried  at  first  to  play  in  it  together,  but  it  would  not  whirl  very 
well  for  some  reason  ;  one  would  perhaps  try  to  go  one  way  and  the 
other  the  other  way,  and  so  the  wheel  would  not  turn,  or  if  one  hap- 
pened to  stop  a  moment,  while  the  other  one  kept  on  turning,  over 
he  would  go  heels  over  head ;  so  after  a  while  they  concluded  to 
play  in  it  by  turns,  and  when  one  was  whirling  the  other  would 
stay  in  the  house  or  go  down  to  the  Pavilion,  or  perhaps  run  out  to 
the  front  door  to  see  if  the  provision  merchant  was  not  going  by. 
If  the  little  mouse  in  the  wheel  kept  whirling  round  and  had  so 
good  a  time  as  to  forget  the  other  one,  his  companion  waiting  out- 
side would  dart  into  the  wheel,  remind  the  little  rogue  that  it  was. 
his  turn  now,  and  then  they  would  change  places. 

The  children  had  often  played  with  these  mice  at  Aunt  Janet's,, 
and  Nathan  was  as  pleased  as  he  could  be  at  actually  having  for  his- 
own,  Mouse  Castle  and  the  little  mice  that  lived  in  it.  It  was 
brought  into  the  room  after  breakfast  on  Nathan's  birthday,  and  the 
children  played  with  it  until  school  time  and  then  hurried  home  to 
play  till  dinner  time,  and  after  dinner  they  played  with  it  till  they 
went  to  school  again,  and  after  school,  when  he  came  home  to  sup- 
per, Mr.  Bodley  found  them  still  gathered  before  it. 

"  Father,"  said  Nathan  after  supper,  "  I  do  believe  that  these  mice 
like  music.     I  have  been  singing  to  them,  and  they  stood  still,  close 
together,  right  here  on  the  Pavilion.     I  could  see  their  hearts  beat." 
"  Oh  play  the  bagpipe  to  them,  papa  !  "  cried  Phfppy. 
"  Yes,  do,"  said  Nathan.     I  'm  sure  they  'd  like  it." 
"  Oh,"  said  Lucy,  softly,  and  looked  at  her  father  rather  anxiously, 
"  Well,  Lucy,"  said  he,  "  shall  I  play  it  ?  "     She  came  close  to  him 
and  whispered  in  his  ear. 


72  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

"I  don't  believe  I'll  play  the  bagpipe,"  said  Mr.  Bodley. 
"  These  mice  are  city  mice,  and  I  don't  believe  they  ever  heard 
such  queer  music.  It  would  frighten  them.  What  they  like  is  to 
hear  gentle  music.  Now  when  Jean  Marot  played  the  bagpipe  he 
played  a  music  that  could  charm  wolves." 

"  Oh  tell  us  more  about  Jean  Marot,"  said  Nathan.  He  was  a 
Frenchman  who  lived  at  grandpa's,  wasn't  he  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  he  was  an  old  Frenchman  who  came  over  from  France  in 
times  when  there  was  a  war  there  ;  he  was  a  poor  man,  and  hid  him- 
self on  board  one  of  your  grandfather's  ships.  Nobody  found  it  out, 
until  they  had  been  at  sea  several  days.  Then  he  crawled  out  from 
behind  some  barrels,  with  nothing  but  his  old  bagpipe  in  his  hand. 
He  had  eaten  the  few  scraps  he  had  brought  with  him,  and  was 
nearly  dead  with  hunger  and  cold  and  sea-sickness.  He  stood  there 
and  made  a  bow,  and  at  first  the  sailors  were  frightened,  but  the 
captain  could  speak  French,  and  he  found  out  what  the  matter  was. 
Jean  lived  in  the  woods  in  the  northern  part  of  France,  and  he  had 
a  son  who  ran  away  from  home  to  America.  Jean  lived  alone,  till 
his  wife  and  all  of  his  children  had  died,  and  then  he  was  so  home- 
sick to  see  his  boy  Robert  that  he  walked  to  the  sea-coast  and  waited 
for  a  chance  to  hide  himself  in  some  ship  bound  to  America.  He 
did  not  know  how  big  our  country  was,  but  he  thought  of  course  lie 
would  find  Robert  here.  He  asked  the  captain  about  him,  but  the 
captain  could  not  tell  him  anything.  He  used  to  play  on  his  bag- 
pipe to  the  sailor*  and  they  danced  to  the  music,  but  it  was  very 
queer  music. 

I  was  a  little  boy  when  he  came  to  your  grandfather's  house. 
The  captain  brought  him  there,  and  he  was  so  old  and  feeble  that 
grandfather  let  him  live  with  us.  He  was  very  fond  of  me  and  used 


THE   WOLF   CHARMER. 


MICE,  RATS,   AND  1'JGGER  ANIMALS.  75 

to  play  the  bagpipe  to  me,  and  tell  me  stories  about  the  woods  in 
which  he  lived.  He  taught  me  how  to  play  his  queer  old  instru^ 
ment,  and  I  learned  some  of  his  odd  tunes,  such  as  you  have  heard 
me  play.  Lucy  thinks  they  are  rather  fearful.  And  no  wonder,  foi 
once  in  a  while  when  it  was  a  warm,  sunny  day,  and  Jean  had  had  a 
good  dinner,  he  used  to  tell  me  about  the  way  he  could  charm 
wolves.  I  never  quite  knew  whether  to  believe  his  stories,  but  he 
said  that  he  would  go  out  into  the  forest  when  he  heard  the  wolves 
howling,  and  take  his  bagpipe  and  begin  to  play,  and  pretty  soon 
they  would  gather  about  him,  a  whole  pack  of  them,  and  follow  him 
like  a  flock  of  sheep." 

"  Martin  has  seen  a  bear,"  said  Nathan. 

"  Well,  I  don't  believe  Martin  ever  played  his  accordeon  to  a 
bear." 

"  Oh  yes,  he  has,"  cried  out  Phippy,  "  and  made  him  dance  to  it." 

"  That  was  a  tame  bear,  Phip,"  said  Nathan.  "  He  never  played 
his  accordeon  to  a  bob-cat,  anyway." 

"  Well,  Jean  used  to  tell  me  how  he  played  to  the  wolves,  till 
they  would  rub  themselves  against  his  legs,  and  then  he  would  stick 
out  his  leg  for  me  to  see,  and  say,  i  There,  right  there ! '  and  I  used 
to  look  at  his  leg  until  it  looked  just  like  a  wolf's  paw  to  me." 

u  Well,  did  you  ever  try  to  charm  any  animals  with  your  bag- 
pipe ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Bodley,  who  had  come  in  while  Mr.  Bodley  was 
telling  his  story. 

"  I  used  to  try  it  on  the  pigs,"  said  he,  laughing,  "  but  I  don't 
think  they  had  much  soul  for  music  in  them.  The  fault  could  not 
have  been  in  the  bagpipe,  or  in  me." 

"  I  think  the  Pied  Piper  had  a  prettier  musical  instrument  than 
Jean  Marot,"  said  Mrs.  Bodley. 


76  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

"  Oh,  I  know,"  said  Phippy.  "  Tom,  Tom,  the  Piper's  son,  stole 
a  pig  and  away  he  run." 

"  I  don't  believe  my  Pied  Piper's  son  ever  stole  a  pig,"  said  her 
mother,  laughing.  "  He  was  called  the  Pied  Piper,  because  he  wore 
a  dress  that  was  half  of  yellow  and  half  of  red,  and  he  played  on  a 
pipe,  which  is  something  like  Cousin  Ned's  flageolet.  Would  you 
like  to  hear  the  story  of  the  Pied  Piper  ?  " 

"  Yes,  yes,"  they  all  shouted,  and  Lucy  climbed  into  her  mother's 
lap. 

"  Well,"  said  she,  "  I  will  tell  it  to  you  in  poetry,  as  I  learned  it, 
and  then  you  can  all  go  to  bed.  Perhaps  Lucy  will  go  to  sleep  as  I 
tell  it."  So  she  told  the  story  which  is  here  set  down,  just  as  it  was 
written  by  a  great  English  poet,  who  wrote  it  to  amuse  a  little  boy. 

THE  PIED  PIPER  OF  HAMELIN. 

BY  ROBERT  BROWNING. 
I. 

Hamelin  Town  's  in  Brunswick, 
By  famous  Hanover  city ; 

The  river  Weser,  deep  and  wide, 

Washes  its  wall  on  the  southern  side  ; 

A  pleasanter  spot  you  never  spied  ; 
But,  when  begins  my  ditty, 

Almost  five  hundred  years  ago, 

To  see  the  townsfolks  suffer  so 
From  vermin,  was  a  pity. 

n. 

Rats! 

They  fought  the  dogs,  and  killed  the  cats, 
And  bit  the  babies  in  the  cradles, 


MICE,   RATS,   AND  BIGGER  ANIMALS.  7T 

And  ate  the  cheeses  out  of  the  vats, 

And  licked  the  soup  from  the  cook's  own  ladles, 
Split  open  the  kegs  of  salted  sprats, 
Made  nests  inside  men's  Sunday  hats, 
And  even  spoiled  the  women's  chatsj 

By  drowning  their  speaking 

With  shrieking  and  squeaking 
In  fifty  different  sharps  and  flats. 

in. 

At  last  the  people  in  a  body 

To  the  Town  Hall  came  flocking : 
"  'T  is  clear,"  cried  they,  "  our  Mayor  's  a  noddy 

And  as  for  our  Corporation  —  shocking 
To  think  we  buy  gowns  lined  with  ermine 
For  doits  that  can't  or  won't  determine 
What 's  best  to  rid  us  of  our  vermin ! 
You  hope,  because  you  're  old  and  obese, 
To  find  in  the  furry  civic  robe  ease? 
Rouse  up,  sirs!     Give  your  brains  a  racking 
To  find  the  remedy  we  're  lacking, 
Or,  sure  as  fate,  we  '11  send  you  packing ! " 
At  this  the  Mayor  and  Corporation 
Quaked  with  a  mighty  consternation. 

IV. 

» 
An  hour  they  sat  in  council, 

At  length  the  Mayor  broke  silence : 
"  For  a  guilder  I  'd  my  ermine  gown  sell ;  " 

i  wish  I  were  a  mile  hence  ! 
It 's  easy  to  bid  one  rack  one's  brain  — 
I  'm  sure  my  poor  head  aches  again 
I  've  scratched  it  so,  and  all  in  vain. 
Oh  for  a  trap,  a  trap,  a  trap  ! " 


78  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

Just  as  he  said  this,  what  should  hap 
At  the  chamber  door  but  a  gentle  tap  ? 

"  Bless  us,"  cried  the  Mayor,  "  what 's  that  ?  " 
(With  the  Corporation  as  he  sat, 
Looking  little  though  wondrous  fat ; 
Nor  brighter  was  his  eye,  nor  moister 
Than  a  too-long-opened  oyster, 
Save  when  at  noon  his  paunch  grew  mutinous 
For  a  plate  of  turtle  green  and  glutinous.) 

"  Only  a  scraping  of  shoes  on  the  mat  ? 
Anything  like  the  sound  of  a  rat 
Makes  my  heart  go  pit-a-pat !  " 

v. 

"  Come  in !  "  —  the  Mayor  cried,  looking  bigger  : 
And  in  did  come  the  strangest  figure! 
His  queer  long  coat  from  heel  to  head 
Was  half  of  yellow  and  half  of  red  ; 
*  And  he  himself  was  tall  and  thin, 

With  sharp  blue  eyes,  each  like  a  pin, 
And  light  loose  hair,  yet  swarthy  skin, 
No  tuft  on  cheek  nor  beard  on  chin, 
But  lips  where  smiles  went  out  and  in  — 
There  was  no  guessing  his  kith  and  kin  ! 
And  nobody  could  enough  admire 
The  tall  man  and  his  quaint  attire  : 
'  Quoth  one:  "It's  as  my  great  grandsire, 
Starting  up  at  the  Trump  of  Doom's  tone, 
Had  walked  this  way  from  his  painted  tomb-ston*  ! " 

VI. 

He  advanced  to  the  council-table : 

And,  "  Please  your  honors,"  said  he,  "  I  'm  able, 

By  means  of  a  secret  charm,  to  draw 


MICE,   RATS,   AND  BIGGER  ANIMALS.  79 

All  creatures  living  beneath  the  sun, 
That  creep  or  swim  or  fly  or  run, 
After  me  so  as  you  never  saw  ! 
And  I  chiefly  use  my  charm 
On  creatures  that  do  people  harm, 
The  mole  and  toad  and  newt  and  viper; 
And  people  call  me  the  Pied  Piper.'1 
(And  here  they  noticed  round  his  neck 
A  scarf  of  red  and  yellow  stripe, 
To  match  with  his  coat  of  the  self-same  check ; 
And  at  the  scarf's  end  hung  a  pipe; 
And  his  fingers,  they  noticed,  were  ever  straying, 
As  if  impatient  to  be  playing 
Upon  this  pipe,  as  low  it  dangled 
Over  his  vesture  so  old-fangled.) 
"  Yet,"  said  he,  "  poor  piper  as  I  am, 
In  Tartary  I  freed  the  Cham, 
Last  June,  from  his  huge  swarms  of  gnats  ; 
I  eased  in  Asia  the  Nizam 
Of  a  monstrous  brood  of  vampire-bats  : 
And  as  for  what  your  brain   bewilders, 
If  I  can  rid  your  town  of  rats, 
Will  you  give  me  a  thousand  guilders  ?  " 
"  One  ?   fifty  thousand  !  "  —  was  the  exclamation 
Of  the  astonished  Mayor  and  Corporation. 

VII. 

Into  the  street  the  Piper  stept, 

Smiling  first  a  little  smile, 
As  if  he  knew  what  magic  slept 

In  his  quiet  pipe  the  while  ; 
Then,  like  a  musical  adept, 
To  blow  the  pipe  his  lips  he  wrinkled, 
And  green  and  blue  his  sharp  eyes  twinkled 


80  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

Like  a  candle-flume  where  salt  is  sprinkled  ; 
And  ere  three  shrill  notes  the  pipe  uttered, 
You  heard  as  if  an  army  muttered ; 
And  the  muttering  grew  to  a  grumbling  ;         . 
And  the  grumbling  grew  to  a  mighty  rumbling: 
And  out  of  the  houses  the  rats  came  tumbling. 
Great  rats,  small  rats,  lean  rats,  brawny  rats, 
Brown  rats,  black  rats,  gray  rats,  tawny  rats, 
Grave  old  plodders,  gay  young  friskers, 

Fathers,  mothers,  uncles,  cousins, 
Cocking  tails  and  pricking  whiskers, 

Families  by  tens  and  dozens, 
Brothers,  sisters,  husbands,  wives  — 
Followed  the  Piper  for  their  lives. 
From  street  to  street  he  piped  advancing, 
And  step  for  step  they  followed  dancing, 
Until  they  came  to  the  river  Weser 
.  Wherein  all  plunged  and  perished  !  — 
Save  one  who,  stout  as  Julius  Caesar, 
Swam  across  and  lived  to  carry 
(As  he,  the  manuscript  he  cherished) 
To  Rat-land  home  his  commentary  ; 
Which  was :  "  At  the  first  shrill  notes  of  the  pipe, 
I  heard  a  sound  as  of  scraping  tripe, 
And  putting  apples,  wondrous  ripe, 
Into  a  cider-press's  gripe  : 
And  a  moving  away  of  pickle-tub  boards, 
And  a  leaving  ajal-  of  conserve  cupboards, 
And  a  drawing  the  corks  of  train-oil  flasks, 
And  a  breaking  the  hoops  of  butter  casks  ; 
And  it  seemed  as  if  a  voice 
(Sweeter  far  than  by  harp  or  by  psaltery 
Is  breathed)  called  out,  O  rats,  rejoice  ! 
The  world  is  grown  to  one  vast  drysaltery ! 


MICE,   RATS,  AND  BIGGER  ANIMALS.  81 

So,  munch  on,  crunch  on,  take  your  nuncheon, 

Breakfast,  supper,  dinner,  luncheon  ! 

And  just  as  a  bulky  sugar  puncheon, 

All  ready  staved,  like  a  great  sun  shone 

Glorious  scarce  an  inch  before  me, 

Just  as  methought  it  said,  Come,  bore  me ! 

I  found  the  Weser  rolling  o'er  me." 

VIII. 

You  should  have  heard  the  Hamelin  people 

Ringing  the  bells  till  they  rocked  the  steeple. 

*  Go,"  cried  the  Mayor,  "  and  get  long  poles ! 

Poke  out  the  nests  and  block  up  the  holes  ! 

Consult  with  carpenters  and  builders, 

And  leave  in  our  town  not  even  a  trace 

Of  the  rats  !  "  —  when,  suddenly,  up  the  face  » 

Of  the  Piper  perked  in  the  market-place, 

With  a,  "  First,  if  you  please,  my  thousand  guilders ! " 

IX. 

A  thousand  guilders !     The  Mayor  looked  blue ; 

So  did  the  Corporation  too. 

For  council  dinners  made  rare  havoc 

With  Claret,  Moselle,  Vin-de-Grave,  Hock ; 

And  half  the  money  would  replenish  * 

Their  cellar's  biggest  butt  with  Rhenish. 

To  pay  this  sum  to  a  wandering  fellow 

With  a  gypsy  coat  of  red  and  yellow  ! 
"  Beside,"  quoth  the  Mayor,  with  a  knowing  wink, 
"  Our  business  was  done  at  the  river's  brink  ; 

We  saw  with  our  eyes  the  vermin  sink, 

And  what 's  dead  can't  come  to  life,  I  think. 

So,  friend,  we  're  not  the  folks  to  shrink 

From  the  duty  of  giving  you  something  for  drink, 
6 


82  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

And  a  matter  of  money  to  put  in  your  poke  ; 

But  as  for  the  guilders,  what  we  spoke 

Of  them,  as  you  very  well  know,  was  in  joke. 

Beside,  our  losses  have  made  us  thrifty. 

A  thousand  guilders  !     Come,  take  fifty  !  " 

x. 

The  Piper's  face  fell,  and  he  cried, 
±  "  No  trifling !     I  can't  wait,  beside  ! 

I  Ve  promised  to  visit  by  dinner  time 
Bagdad,  and  accept  the  prime 
Of  the  Head-Cook's  pottage,  all  he  's  rich  in, 
For  having  left,  in  the  Caliph's  kitchen, 
Of  a  nest  of  scorpions  no  survivor  : 
With  him  I  proved  no  bargain  driver ; 
With  you,  don't  think  I  '11  bate  a  stiver ! 
And  folks  who  put  me  in  a  passion 
May  find  me  pipe  to  another  fashion." 

XL 

"  How  ?  "   cried  the  Mayor,  "  d'  ye  think  I  '11  brook 
Being  worse  treated  than  a  Cook  ? 
Insulted  by  a  lazy  ribald 
With  idle  pipe  and  vesture  piebald  ? 
You  threaten  us,  fellow  ?     Do  your  worst, 
Blow  your  pipe  there  till  you  burst !  " 

XII. 

Once  more  he  stept  into  the  street, 

And  to  his  lips  again 
Laid  his  long  pipe  of  smooth  straight  cane; 

And  ere  he  blew  three  notes  (such  sweet 
Soft  notes  as  yet  musician's  cunning 

Never  gave  the  enraptured  air) 


PIPER  OF  HAMELIN, 


MICE,   RATS,   AND  BIGGER  ANIMALS.  85 

There  was  a  rustling,  that  seemed  like  a  bustling 

Of  merry  crowds  jostling  at  pitching  and   hustling, 

Small  feet  were  pattering,  wooden  shoes  clattering, 

Little  hands  clapping  and  little  tongues  chattering, 

And,  like  fowls  in  a  farm-yard  when  barley  is  scattering, 

Out  came  the  children  running. 

All  the  little  boys  and  girls, 

With  rosy  cheeks  and  flaxen  curls, 

And  sparkling  eyes  and  teeth  like  pearls, 

Tripping  and  skipping,  ran  merrily  after 

The  wonderful  music  with  shouting  and  laughter. 

XIII. 

The  Mayor  was  dumb,  and  the  Council  stood 

As  if  they  were  changed  into  blocks  of  wood, 

Unable  to  move  a  step,  or  cry 

To  the  children  merrily  skipping  by, 

And  could  only  follow  with  the  eye 

That  joyous  crowd  at  the  Piper's  back. 

But  how  the  Mayor  was  on  the  rack, 

And  the  wretched  Council's  bosoms  beat, 

As  the  Piper  turned  from  the  High  Street 

To  where  the  Weser  rolled  its  waters 

Right  in  the  way  of  their  sons  and  daughters  ! 

However  he  turned  from  South  to  West, 

And  to  Koppelberg  Hill  his  steps  addressed, 

And  after  him  the  children  pressed  ; 

Great  was  the  joy  in  every  breast. 

He  never  can  cross  that  mighty  top  ! 

He  's  forced  to  let  the  piping  drop, 

And  we  shall  see  our  children  stop  !  " 

When,  lo  !  as  they  reached  the  mountain's  side, 

A  wondrous  portal  opened  wide, 

As  if  a  cavern  was  suddenly  hollowed  • 


86  DOINGS  OF  THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

And  the  Piper  advanced  and  the  children  followed. 
And  when  all  were  in  to  the  very  last, 
The  door  in  the  mountain -side  shut  fast. 
Did   I  say,  all  ?     No  !     One  was  lame, 
And  could  not  dance  the  whole  of  the  way  ; 
And  in  after  years,  if  you  would  blame 
His  sadness,  he  was  used  to  say,  — 
u  It 's  dull  in  our  town  since  my  playmates  left  ' 
I  can't  forget  that  I  'm  bereft 
Of  all  the  pleasant  sights  they  see, 
Which  the  Piper  also  promised  me. 
For  he  led  us,  he  said,  to  a  joyous  land, 
Joining  the  town  and  just  at  hand, 
Where  waters  gushed  and  fruit-trees  grew, 
And  flowers  put  forth  a  fairer  hue, 
And  everything  was  strange  and   new  ; 
The  sparrows  were  brighter  than  peacocks  here, 
And  their  dogs  outran  our  fallow-deer, 
And  honey-bees  had  lost  their  stings, 
And  horses  were  born  with  eagle's  wings  : 
And  just  as  I  became  assured 
My  lame  foot  would  be  speedily  cured, 
The  music  stopped  and  I  stood  still, 
And  found  myself  outside  the  Hill, 
Left  alone  against  my  will, 
To  go  now  limping  as  before, 
And  never  hear  of  that  country  more  !  " 

XIV. 

Alas,  alas  for  Hamelin  ! 

There  came  into  many  a  burgher's  pate 
A  text  which  says,  that  Heaven's  Gate 
Opes  to  the  Rich  at  as  easy  rate 

As  the  needle's  eye  takes  a  camel  in  ! 


MICE,    RATS,  AND  BIGGER  ANIMALS.  87 

The  Mayor  sent  East,  West,  North,  and  South, 
To  offer  the  Piper,  by  word  of  mouth, 

Wherever  it  was  men's  lot  to  find  him, 
Silver  and  gold  to  his  heart's  content, 
If  he  'd  only  return  the  way  he  went, 

And  bring  the  children  behind  him. 
But  when  they  saw  't  was  a  lost  endeavor, 
And  Piper  and  dancers  were  gone  forever, 
They  made  a  decree  that  lawyers  never 

Should  think  their  records  dated  duly 
If,  after  the  day  of  the  month  and  year, 
These  words  did  not  as  well  appear, 
And  so  long  after  what  happened  here 

On  the  Twenty-Second  of  July, 
Thirteen  hundred  and  seventy-six  : " 
And  the  better  in  memory  to  fix 
The  place  of  the  children's  last  retreat, 
They  called  it  the  Pied  Piper's  Street,  — 
Where  any  one  playing  on  pipe  or  tabor 
Was  sure  for  the  future  to  lose  his  labor. 
Nor  suffered  they  hostelry  or  tavern 

To  shock  with  mirth  a  street  so  solemn  ; 
But  opposite  the  place  of  the  cavern 

They  wrote  the  story  on  a  column, 
And  on  the  great  Church  window  painted 
The  same,  to  make  the  world  acquainted 
How  their  children  were  stolen  away ; 
And  there  it  stands  to  this  very  day. 
And  I  must  not  omit  to  say 
That  in  Transylvania  there  's  a  tribe 
Of  alien  people  that  ascribe 
The  outlandish  ways  and  dress 
On  which  their  neighbors  lay  such  stress, 
To  their  fathers  and  mothers  having  risen 


88  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

Out  of  some  subterraneous  prison 

Into  which  they  were  trepanned 

Long  time  ago  in  a  mighty  band 

Out  of  Hamelin  town  in  Brunswick  land, 

But  how  or  why,  they  don't  understand. 

xv. 

So,  Willy,  let  me  and  you  be  wipers 

Of  scores  out  with  all  men  —  especially  pipers : 

And,  whether  they  pipe  us  free  from  rats,  or  from  mice, 

If  we  've  promised  them  aught,  let  us  keep  our  promise. 

"  Lucy  is  n't  asleep,"  said  Phippy. 

"  Well,  let  me  see  if  I  can't  pipe  these  children  to  follow  me," 
said  the  mother,  and  she  caught  up  the  hearth  broom  and  pretended 
to  play  upon  it  as  she  danced  out  of  the  room,  singing :  — 

"Oh  come,  come  away, 
From  stories  now  reposing. 
Let  papa  sip  each  little  lip : 
Oh  come,  come  away  !  " 

The  children  laughed  merrily,  kissed  their  papa,  and  danced,  sing- 
ing, out  of  the  room  and  up  to  bed. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

MASTER    HIGH    FLYER. 


ONE  day  in  June,  Nathan  looked  out  of  the  window  of  the  chil- 
dren's play-room  and  counted  thirteen  kites  flying.  Some  were  so 
high  that  he  could  but  just  see  them,  and  some  so  near  that  he  could 


MASTER   HIGH  FLYER. 


89- 


see  the  strings  that  held  them  and  bent  under  the  weight  of  the  air. 
They  were  plunging  and  soaring,  veering  this  way  and  that,  and 
waving  their  tails  behind  with  every  motion.  It  was  the  afternoon, 
and  he  looked  at  his  own  half-finished  kite  on  the  floor,  and  won- 


The   Little   Photographers. 


dered  if  he  could  finish  it  that  day.  He  thought  he  would  go  and 
find  Phippy  and  Lucy  and  get  them  to  help  him.  So  he  went  down- 
stairs and  opened  the  door  into  his  mother's  room,  but  stopped  as 
Phippy  uttered  a  loud  'sh !  He  could  not  see  her  at  first.  Then 


90  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

he  made  her  out  under  a  chair  which  she  had  tipped  down,  while 
she  had  thrown  an  apron  over  her  head.  Lucy  sat  opposite  to  her, 
holding  a  hearth  broom  in  her  lap. 

"  Phip  !  "  said  he,  "  what  are  you  doing  ?  " 

"  Nathan,  hush  !  photographs.  I  'm  taking  Lucy.  Don't  you 
breathe.  You  '11  injure  the  negative.  Now  Lucy,  look  right  at  the 
corner  where  I  am  pointing.  Hold  your  knitting  still.  Nathan, 
don't  you  laugh.  "  We  're  going  to  have  a  rembranteffeck,  like 
mama's  picture.  Now,  Lucy,  keep  perfectly  still,  and  don't  you 
move  your  eyes,  or  you  '11  hurt  the  picture.  I  'rn  counting  twenty." 
She  stayed  faithfully  under  the  apron,  then  threw  it  off,  and  rushed 
away  with  a  slate  under  her  arm,  which  she  said  she  was  going  to 
take  into  a  closet  to  touch  up.  The  children  waited  patiently  for 
her  to  come  back,  and  presently  she  appeared  triumphantly  with  the 
slate.  Yes,  and  a  picture  of  Lucy  on  it,  but  as  Mrs.  Bodley  came 
laughing  into  the  room  at  the  same  time,  it  looked  very  much  as  if 
she  had  had  something  to  do  with  touching  it  up. 

"  Now,  Phippy,"  said  Mrs.  Bodley,  "  you  can  put  on  your  hat  and 
go  with  me  to  meet  papa." 

"  Oh,  I  want  the  children  to  help  me  with  my  kite,"  said  Nathan, 
looking  rather  dismayed. 

"  I  '11  help  you,"  said  Lucy,  so  off  the  two  went  together  to  the 
great  play-room.  There  Lucy  held  the  paste-pot,  which  was  quite  as 
much  as  she  could  do,  for  she  had  a  doll  in  her  other  arm,  and  it  was 
a  very  critical  time,  for  the  doll  was  taking  her  afternoon  nap,  which 
must  not  be  disturbed.  The  kite  was  to  be  a  very  grand  one,  —  it 
stood  nearly  six  feet  from  the  ground,  —  and  Nathan  was  reflecting 
whether  he  should  not  have  to  ask  Martin  to  help  him  fly  it ;  but 
what  made  it  particularly  fine  was  that  his  mother  had  painted  a 


MASTER   HIGH  FLYER.  91 

boy's  face  on  it,  which  was  looking  with  all  eyes,  and  with  mouth 
half-open,  as  if  he  were  just  about  to  speak.  The  children  called 
him  Master  High  Flyer,  because  they  intended  that  he  should  go  up 
into  the  air  just  as  far  as  a  very  large  ball  of  string  would  let  him. 
When  Lucy's  doll  was  fast  asleep,  she  was  laid  down  carefully  in 
Lucy's  lap,  who  then  could  help  Nathan  make  bobs  for  the  tail  of 
his  kite.  The  sun  went  down  just  as  they  finished  making  the  last, 
and  Master  High  Flyer  was  stood  on  tiptoe  in  the  corner,  with  the 
paper  tail  hung  carelessly  over  his  shoulder,  there  to  pass  the  night, 
his  last  night  in  the  house,  for  to-morrow  he  was  to  start  on  his 
journey. 

Just  as  they  were  leaving  the  room,  Nathan  and  Lucy  turned  to 
look  on  the  kite,  and  Lucy  said,  — 

"  I  do  think,  Nathan,  that  it  is  too  bad  to  leave  Master  High 
Flyer  all  alone  here ;  see  how  his  eyes  look  as  if  he  did  not  want  us 
to  go." 

"  Why,  it 's  only  a  kite,  Lucy,"  said  Nathan.  "  A  kite  does  n't 
think  anything." 

"  Well,  1  mean  to  leave  Salah.  Salah  will  keep  him  company, 
and  she  never  has  spent  a  night  here  before,  for  she  has  always 
slept  with  me.  Good-night,  Salah  !  "  and  Lucy  kissed  her  and  sat 
her  upright  in  a  little  willow  rocking-chair  directly  opposite  Master 
High  Flyer,  and  then  she  went  away  with  Nathan  and  shut  the 
door  of  the  play-room. 

It  was  now  perfectly  still  there  and  gradually  growing  darker, 
though  it  was  light  enough  yet  to  see  pretty  well.  Master  High 
Flyer  and  Salah  sat  looking  at  one  another ;  he  leaning  against  the 
Wall,  and  she  sitting  bolt  upright  in  her  rocking-chair.  He  stared 
so  hard  and  held  his  mouth  open  so,  that  she  expected  every  mo- 


92  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

ment  he  was  going  to  speak,  until  at  length,  getting  tired  of  being 
so  still,  and  a  little  frightened,  too,  as  it  grew  dark,  Salah  herself 
spoke  out,  but  pretended  she  was  speaking  to  herself  only,  — 

"  It  is  rather  too  bad  that  I  should  have  had  a  nap  this  afternoon, 
for  then  I  might  have  been  able  to  go  to  sleep  up  here ;  but  now  it 
looks  as  if  I  were  to  keep  awake  all  night,  and  I  am  afraid  there  is 
to  be  no  candle  lighted." 

"  Oh,  I  'm  so  sorry,"  said  Master  High  Flyer  suddenly,  and  then 
he  stopped  short. 

"  Did  you  speak,  sir,"  asked  Salah,  after  a  moment,  glad  if  they 
were  to  have  a  little  conversation. 

"  Oh,  yes !  oh,  yes !  oh,  yes  !  "  said  he,  rapidly. 

"  Well,"  said  she,  after  waiting  some  time  for  him  to  go  on. 

"  Oh,  you  are  so  beautiful !  "  said  he  all  of  a  sudden.  Salah  did 
not  know  just  what  to  say  in  reply  ;  now  she  was  getting  confused, 
and  at  this  Master  High  Flyer,  who  had  nearly  lost  his  wits  out  of 
love  for  her,  grew  more  bold  and  tried  to  lean  forward,  but  could 
not. 

"  Do  not  think,"  said  he,  "  that  I  don't  care  because  I  lean  back 
here  against  the  wall.  It  is  not  my  fault,  and  I  do  care  a  great 
deal.  If  you  do  not  mind,  suppose  you  move  your  rocking-chair  a 
little  nearer,  for  it  is  growing  dark  and  I  am  afraid  I  shall  not  be 
able  to  see  you  much  longer." 

"I  —  I  think  I  would  better  stay  where  I  was  placed,"  said  Salah, 
who  did  not  like  to  confess  that  she  could  not  move  her4  chair, 
though  it  was  on  rockers. 

"  Then  we  must  make  the  best  of  it,"  said  Master  High  Flyer, 
and  there  was  a  pause.  "  Oh,  what  shall  I  say  next?"  he  said  to 
himself;  "  I  wish  she  would  speak ; "  but  she  did  not,  and  he  said 
aloud,  — 


MASTER   HIGH  FLYER.  93 

"  Are  you  pretty  comfortable  ?  " 

"Yes,  pretty,"  said  Salah. 

"  Oh,  you  are  more  than  pretty,"  said  he,  with  a  sudden  thought, 
and  then  he  stopped  short,  for  he  was  frightened  again. 

"  You  said  that  before,"  said  Salah,  "  or  something  like  it." 

"  And  I  will  say  it  again,"  began  he. 

"  Oh,  but  you  must  n't,"  said  she  ;  "  you  are  getting  rude." 

"But  I  mean,  if  you  want  me  to,"  said  he. 

"  Well,  not  just  yet,"  said  she.  "  Tell  me  first  how  long  you 
have  been  here.  We  might  tell  stories  to  each  other,  till  we  fall 
asleep." 

"  I  shall  not  go  to  sleep,  I  assure  you,"  said  Master  High  Flyer, 
firmly. 

"  But  I  shall,"  said  Salah,  "  and  I  begin  to  feel  sleepy  already." 

"  Oh,  no,"  -said  he,  in  alarm  ;  "  here,  I  will  tell  you  all  about  my- 
self," and  he  began.  "  I  will  go  back  just  as  far  as  I  can  recollect. 
I  think  it  was  partly  in  the  wood-shed  and  partly  in  the  dining- 
room  "  — 

"  I  am  almost  asleep,"  said  Salah. 

"  Oh,  wake  up,  Salah !  I  do  not  remember  anything  at  all  till  you 
came  into  the  room  this  afternoon.  You  were  asleep." 

"I  am  not  asleep,"  said  Salah,  indignantly.  "  I  have  heard  every 
word." 

"  I  don't  mean  now,  Salah  —  I  don't  mean  now  ;  I  mean  this 
afternoon.  As  I  was  sitting  here  and  thinking  that  I  did  not  know 
what  was  going  to  happen,  and  I  had  been  lying  flat  on  my  back 
looking  up  at  the  rafters  and  feeling  as  if  nothing  was  going  right, 
just  then  I  thought  I  heard  footsteps,  and  pretty  soon  they  came 
nearer,  and  the  door  opened,  and  then  it  shut,  and  Nathan  came  and 


94  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

helped  me  to  stand  up,  and  I  felt  pretty  sure  that  something  was 
going  to  happen,  though  I  could  not  tell  what ;  and  then  the  door 
opened  again  and  more  footsteps  came  in,  and  then  the  door  shut, 
and  then  Lucy  came  and  spoke  to  Nathan  and  said  she  would  take 
the  paste-pot,  and  then,  oh,  then,  Salah,  I  saw  you !  "  Master 
High  Flyer  waited  a  moment,  but  Salah  said  nothing. 

"  You  were  asleep  then  —  were  n't  you,  Salah  ?  for  I  saw  you 
and  you  did  not  see  me."  No  answer  came,  and  he  grew  uneasy. 

"  Salah  !  "  said  he,  gently,  "  are  you  awake  ?  Dear  Salah  !  —  oh 
my !  did  she  hear  that  ?  "  But  all  was  silent. 

"  Oh,  I  ought  not  to  have  made  it  so  long  before  I  came  to  her," 
said  he,  disconsolately.  "  I  ought  to  have  begun  with  that ;  I  ought 
to  have  said,  '  Salah,  the  first  thing  I  remember  in  my  life  is  that  I 
saw  you,  and  I  do  not  wish  to  remember  any  farther  back ; '  and 
then  she  would  have  said,  '  Oh,  you  must  n't,'  just  as  she  did  before, 
and  I  would  have  said.  'Well,  I  won't  remember  anything  farther 
back,  but  I  remember  perfectly  everything  since  that ; '  and  she 
would  have  said,  '  Why,  what  happened  ?  '  and  then  I  would  have 
told  everything  in  little  short  sentences,  and  have  put  her  name 
into  each,  and  then  she  would  have  kept  awake.  This  is  the  way 
we  would  have  talked,"  and  Master  High  Flyer,  finding  Salah  would 
not  wake  up,  began  and  kept  up  a  long  conversation,  saying  just 
what  he  chose  and  making  Salah  grow  to  say  very  bold  things  in- 
deed to  him,  and  mighty  pleasant  ones  to  listen  to.  It  was  past 
midnight,  and  he  was  saying,  "  Then  I  would  say,  '  My  own  dearest 
Salah,  you  sat  down  in  the  rocking-chair  '  (for  he  had  got  no  farther 
than  this),  and  she  would  say,  '  Dear  High,  I  remember,  and  you 
were  leaning  against  the  wall ;  go  on,  dear  High." 

"  Dear  High,  indeed  !  "  broke  in  Salah,  really,  at  this  point,  for 


MASTER  HIGH  FLYER.  95 

she  had  just  waked  up ;  "  who  said  'Dear  High '  to  you,  Master 
High  Flyer  ? " 

He  was  in  a  great  fright  and  did  not  dare  say  a  word,  lest  he 
should  say  something  that  would  make  matters  worse,  and  he  sud- 
denly resolved  to  pretend  to  be  asleep. 

"  I  certainly  heard  talking,"  said  Salah  to  herself.  "  I  woke  up 
hearing  those  words ;  it  cannot  be  that  I  have  been  talking  in  my 
sleep.  It  would  be  extremely  vexatious.  I  must  keep  awake,  but 
I  will  pretend  to  be  asleep." 

And  so  there  was  silence  for  a  long  time  ;  both  were  awake,  but 
Salah  was  not  going  to  speak  first,  and  Master  High  Flyer  did  not 
dare  to  speak  unless  she  were  asleep.  At  length  he  said  in  a  lit- 
tle whisper,  as  if  he  could  pretend  he  had  not  spoken  if  she  an- 
swered, — 

"  Salah  !  " 

But  Salah  kept  prudently  quiet.  Then  he  spoke  louder  and 
louder,  and  finally  becoming  bold  again,  he  resumed  his  story  where 
he  left  off,  though  he  was  a  little  more  careful  what  he  made  Salah 
say  ;  anything  that  was  very  nice  he  only  whispered  to  himself,  and 
it  made  Salah  grow  very  curious.  It  was  indeed  beginning  to  be 
light,  and  Master  High  Flyer  felt  that  his  time  was  short.  He  had 
now  got  as  far  as  where  Salah  overheard  him  first. 

"  Just  then  I  said,  '  Salah  would  say,  "  Dear  High,  I  remember, 
and  you  were  leaning  against  the  wall ;  go  on,  dear  High,"  '  and 
(here  a  long  pause,  in  which  Master  High  Flyer  was  saying  to  him- 
self, '  My  own  most  lovely  Salah  ')  woke  up  and  spoke  these  two 
words,  '  Dear  High.'  Oh,  I  wish  she  had  said  them  in  earnest,  but 
she  was  only  repeating  what  I  said,  and  I  was  so  frightened  that  I 
did  not  say  anything  more  out  loud  for  a  long  time.  If  I  had  only 


96  DOINGS" OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

dared  to,  I  would  have  said  what  I  only  said  to  myself;  but  I  was 
afraid  she  would  hear  me,  and  yet  I  wanted  her  to  hear  me.  I  was 
saying  in  answer  to  her  question,  ( I  said,  u  Dear  High  "  to  myself, 
Salah ;  but  I  was  pretending  that  you  said  it,  because  I  wanted  to 
hear  you  say  it.'  If  I  had  only  had  the  courage  to  speak  this  out, 
but  I  had  not ;  and  now  it  is  growing  light,  and  when  Salah  wakes 
up  I  shall  not  know  what  to  say,  especially  if  she  asks  me  what  I 
said  in  the  night." 

"  Hem  !  "  said  Salah,  who  had,  as  we  know,  been  listening  all  this 
time. 

"  Oh  my  !  "  said  Master  High  Flyer. 

"  My  what  ?  "  asked  Salah,  mischievously.     "  Is  it  my  me  ?  " 

"  It 's  my  Salah,"  exclaimed  Master  High  Flyer  in  great  excite- 
ment, suddenly  coming  to  the  point.  "  0  Salah,  if  you  only 
knew  "  — 

"  I  know  it  all,  sir,"  said  Salah  ;  and  just  then  the  door  opened 
and  Master  High  Flyer  could  see  a  little  figure  in  white  with  bare 
feet  come  running  across  the  floor.  There  was  a  moment  only,  for 
it  was  Lucy  running  to  Salah,  and  Master  High  Flyer  cried  out, 
"  Dear  Salah,  say  you  love  me." 

u  J  » 

But  Lucy  had  now  taken  up  Salah. 

"  You  poor  little  thing,  I  am  afraid  you  had  a  lonely  night  up 
here,"  said  Lucy,  kissing  her,  while  Master  High  Flyer  looked  on  in 
anguish.  "  I  came  up  just  as  soon  as  I  waked,  and  you  shall  come 
right  down-stairs  and  stay  with  me,  while  I  am  dressing.  .  Oh,  let 

us  come  to  the  window-seat  first,  and  see  the  sun  rise."    She  climbed 

*  * 

up  into  her  favorite  seat  and  held  Salah  up  to  the  window  with  her 
back  to  Master  High  Flyer.  There  out  of  the  high  window  the  little 


ml 


I 


MASTER   HIGH  FLYER.  99 

9 

girl  and  her  little  doll  could  see  a  great  bark  putting  out  to  sea,  the 
tug  just  leaving  her  to  go  on  her  journey  alone,  across  the  great 
ocean.  Lucy  looked  and  wondered  about  the  white  winged  vessel, 
and  Salah  looked  and  it  seemed  to  her  as  if  she  was  sailing  away, 
away.  Then  Lucy  clambered  down  and  went  toward  the  door. 
"  Good-morning,  Master  High  Flyer  !  "  said  she  "  I  think  you  might 
say  you  did  not  want  Salah  to  go,"  and  away  went  Lucy  with  Salah. 
Alas  !  she  carried  her  in  front,  and  though  Master  High  Flyer  looked 
very  hard,  he  could  not  catch  another  glimpse  of  his  lovely  Salah. 
The  door  was  shut,  and  he  was  left  alone  in  his  misery. 

As  soon  as  breakfast  was  over,  Nathan  and  Lucy  came  up  to  get 
the  kite  to  fly  it.  Nathan  looked  it  all  over 'and  pronounced  it 
perfectly  dry  and  strong.  He  fastened  the  ball  of  stout  twine  to 
it,  and  they  marched  off  into  the  field  where  they  were  to  raise 
it-  The  day  was  a  beautiful  one,  and  there  was  just  enough  steady 
wind  to  give  the  kite  a  good  chance,  without  carrying  it  up  too  vio- 
lently. 

"  Wait  a  moment,  Nathan,"  said  Lucy.  "  I  want  Salah  to  see 
it." 

"  A  doll  can't  see  a  kite  go  up,"  said  Nathan  ;  but  she  had  al- 
ready run  off  and  soon  came  back  with  Salah,  who  now  wore  a  straw 
hat  which  was  very  becoming.  Master  High  Flyer  was  in  agony, 
for  as  soon  as  Lucy  appeared  with  Salah,  and  before  they  could 
even  exchange  looks,  Martin  and  Nathan  began  to  send  him  aloft. 
At  first  he  plunged  about,  determining  to  get  at  Salah  ;  but  the 
wind  took  him,  Nathan  was  running  with  the  line,  and  soon  he  was 
rising  steadily  in  the  air.  If  he  could  only  have  had  Salah  he  would 
now  have  been  perfectly  happy,  for  it  made  him  feel  so  free  and  so 
excited  to  rise  above  the  trees,  above  the  house,  higher  and  higher, 


100  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

till  he  quite  lost  sight  of  Salah,  and  could  hardly  see  even  Martin, 
who  was  pretty  tall.  He  could  see  far  off  over  the  sea  where  the 
ships  were  sailing,  and  he  could  see  nearer  by  other  kites  that  were 
flying  about  him,  but  he  was  higher  than  all  of  them,  —  and  little 
boys  in  the  country  about  were  watching  him  till  their  necks  felt 
lame. 

Nathan  was  vastly  proud  of  his  kite,  and  now  that  he  had  let  out 
all  his  string,  he  fastened  the  end  to  a  stake  in  the  ground,  and  so 
securely  tethered  Master  High  Flyer. 

"  Lucy,"  said  he,  "  we  must  send  a  messenger  up." 

"  Why,  how,  Nathan,  and  who  can  you  send  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  '11  show  you ;  you  go  and  get  me  a  piece  of  paper  and 
pair  of  scissors;  "  and  Lucy,  leaving  Salah  on  the  grass,  where  she 
lay  reproaching  herself  for  not  answering  Master  High  Flyer,  ran 
into  the  house  and  brought  out  an  old  envelope  and  a  pair  of  scis- 
sors. Nathan  cut  the  back  of  the  envelope  round,  and  another 
round  hole  in  the  middle  of  the  piece,  and  told  Lucy  that  it  was  now 
ready  to  slip  on  to  the  line,  for  he  was  not  going  to  cut  it  but  put  it 
on  the  end  of  the  line,  and  so  let  it  slip  up. 

"  But  there  is  nothing  on  it,  Nathan,"  said  Lucy.  "  When  it  gets 
to  Master  High  Flyer  it  will  not  tell  him  anything  ;  it  must  carry  a 
message."  , 

"  But  a  kite  can't  read,  Lucy,"  said  the  little  boy  ;  "  a  kite  can't 
read." 

"  I  have  thought  of  something,"  said  she.  "  Please  let  me  take 
the  messenger  a  moment,  Nathan." 

He  gave  it  to  her  unwillingly,  and  Lucy  scampered  off  into  the 
house,  where  her  mother  was  busy  getting  ready  to  make  some  but- 
ter. 


MASTER   HIGH  FLYER.  101 

"Mama!"  said  she,  • "  we  are -going  to  send  a  messenger  to 
Master  High  Flyer,  and  I  want  you  to  write  the  message  for  him  to 
carry.  Here  he  is,"  and  she  produced  the  little  circlet  of  paper. 
Mrs.  Bodley  laughed,  and  said, — 

"  Well,  Lucy,  what  shall  I  write  ?  " 

"  Write,  —  '  I  love  you  very  much.  Salah.' '  So  her  mother 
took  the  pencil  and  wrote  round  the  paper ;  but  being  busy,  she 
made  a  mistake  and  wrote,  —  "I  love  you  very  much.  Lucy." 
Lucy  took  the  messenger,  and  ran  out  to  where  Nathan  was  waiting. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "  what  has  mother  written  ?  " 

"  Oh,  she  has  written  a  message  for  Salah,  and  she  says,  '  I  love 
you  very  much,'  and  that  is  meant  for  Master  High  Flyer." 

"I  think  it's  very  silly,"  said  wise  Nathan;  but  Salah  did  not 
think  so,  for  she  heard  Lucy  and  she  was  at  once  in  high  delight ; 
but  then  she  began  to  think,  —  "  He  has  gone  up  so  high  that  he 
has  forgotten  all  about  me.  I  wish  I  had  spoken  out  earlier  this, 
morning ;  I  should  have  said  what  Lucy  has  written,  I  rather  think 
—  after  a  while  at  least." 

Nathan  slipped  the  messenger  on,  and  soon  it  was  winding  its  way 
up  the  string,  and  at  last  was  indeed  nearly  out  of  sight.  They 
had  got  rather  tired  of  staying  by  the  kite  now,  so  they  fastened 
the  string  to  the  stake  and  went  off  without  Salah  into  the  barn,, 
and  then  when  dinner  time  came,  into  the  house.  They  came  into 
the  dining-room  just  as  the  cuckoo  came  out  of  his  door  in  the 
clock  to  say  that  it  was  half-past  one.  "  Cuckoo  !  "  he  said,  and 
tipped  forward  and  backward  and  then  shut  the  door  and  was  safe 
at  home  again. 

Now  let  us  hear  what  happened  in  the  air  while  Nathan  and 
Lucy  were  away.  Salah  only  remained  sitting  on  the  ground  at  one 


102 


DOINGS   OF   THE  BO  DIE  Y  FAMILY. 


end  of  the  string,  up  which  was  slowly  traveling,  spinning -round, 

her  messenger,  and  at  the 
other  end  Master-  High 
Flyer,  who  was  so  high  up 
that  he  could  neither  see 
Salah  nor  the  messenger.  In- 
deed he  was  getting  to  be 
very  lonely.  At  first  it  had 
seemed  a  fine  thing  to  be  so 
exalted,  but  « What  is  all 
this,"  he  said,  "  without  Sa- 
lah ?  "  He  struggled  to  get 
back  to  earth  again,  and 
switched  his  long  paper  tail 
about.  People  on  the  earth 
thought  it  very  fine,  and  said, 
"  How  gracefully  the  kite  is 
moving  about ;  it  must  be 
very  grand  to  b*e  so  high," 
and  even  Salah  sighed  and 
thought,  "  He  is  so  proud 
up  there  that  he  does  not 
think  of  me."  How  little  they  knew  about  it  all ! 

Meanwhile  the  messenger  was  making  his  way  upward,  and  now 
Master  High  Flyer  caught  sight  of  him,  spinning  slowly  up  the  line. 
"  Have  you  any  word  for  me  ?  "  he  asked  eagerly,  and  looked  with 
all  his  eyes.  But  the  messenger  was  too  intent  on  getting  to  the 
end  of  his  journey,  and,  besides,  was  so  dizzy  that  he  could  not 
speak.  He  came  nearer,  he  was  within  reading  sight  of  Master 


The   Cuckoo  Clock. 


MASTER  HIGH  FLYER.  *      103 

High  Flyer's  great  eyes,  but  alas !  the  writing  was  all  under- 
neath. 

"  What !  have  you  nothing  at  all  ? "  exclaimed  Master  High 
Flyer  in  despair,  when  just  then  the  leaf  turned  up  and  he  caught 
sight  of  "  I "  —  He  leaned,  struggled  toward  the  messenger  — 
snap !  went  the  string,  down  tumbled  the  long  line  with  the  mes- 
senger on  the  tip  end,  away  flew  Master  High  Flyer,  plunging  about 
in  the  most  furious  manner  ! 

He  was  determined  now  to  get  back  to  Salah,  but  alas  !  the  wind 
carried  him  about  vexatiously.  "  If  it  were  not  for  my  long  paper 
tail,"  he  cried  angrily,  "  I  could  go  where  I  like."  He  was,  how- 
ever, gradually  descending,  though  it  gave  him  a  headache  to  turn 
so  many  somersaults,  sometimes  driving  headlong  down  in  a  fright- 
ful manner,  and  then  whisking  up  as  if  he  were  going  back  to  the 
sky. 

At  length,  when  he  was  feeling  quite  exhausted,  and  was  panting 
for  the  free  air  which  he  had  been  breathing  above,  Master  High 
Flyer  suddenly  found  himself  stopped.  He  was  in  an  apple-tree, 
leaning  against  a  stout  branch  and  standing  upon  one  still  stouter, 
while  his  paper  tail,  much  bruised,  was  hanging  weariedly  over  a 
little  twig  behind.  He  had  reached  the  end  of  his  fall,  but  his  con- 
dition was  more  hopeless  than  before.  The  green  leaves  were  about 
him,  and  he  seemed  quite  hidden  from  sight.  And  what  was  writ- 
ten on  the  paper  ?  That  was  gone  and  he  could  not  know.  Was 
it  not  a  sad  ending  ? 

What  was  the  amazement  of  Nathan  and  Lucy  when  they  came 
into  the  field  after  dinner  and  found  Salah  indeed  at  her  post,  but 
the  kite  gone,  and  the  string  fallen  on  the  ground. 


104  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

"  0  Lucy,  Lucy,"  said  Nathan,  "  the  kite  has  broken  the  string  !  " 

"  Perhaps  Salah  knows  about  it,"  said  she. 

"  But  a  doll  can't  tell !  "  said  Nathan.  Salah  did  know  something 
about  it ;  she  had  seen  Master  High  Flyer  break  loose,  and  then  she 
had  cried  so  hard  that  she  did  not  see  the  rest,  and  now  she  tried  to 
tell,  but  she  could  not.  The  children  took  her  with  them,  however, 
as  they  untied  the  string  from  the  stake,  and  began  to  wind  it, 
keeping  watch  all  the  while  for  Master  High  Flyer.  When  they 
had  reached  the  ena  of  the  line,  they  looked  all  about  them. 

"  Where  is  the  messenger  ?  "  asked  Lucy.  "  I  hope  it  reached 
Master  High  Flyer." 

"It  is  not  here,  at  any  rate,"  said  Nathan.  Was  it  not?  Only 
one  could  have  told  where  it  was,  and  yet  it  was  not  far  off.  The 
mole  knew ;  he  had  dragged  it  into  his  hole,  and  there,  where  it 
was  nice  and  dark,  he  was  reading  it  by  the  light  of  his  wife's  eyes. 

"  Where  did  you  get  this  ?  "  said  she,  sharply.  "  My  name  is  not 
Lucy." 

"  No  matter,"  said  he  ;  for  he  thought  it  was  meant  for  him.  So 
they  began  to  quarrel,  and  the  end  was  that  the  mole  lived  at  one 
end  of  his  long  hole  and  his  wife  at  the  other  for  nearly  a  week. 

The  children  wandered  about  with  Salah  in  the  orchard,  and 
finally  laying  Salah  on  the  grass,  went  off  and  began  to  pick  up 
what  they  called  lemons,  but  the  juice  seemed  to  have  turned  to 
ashes.  They  heard  the  horn  sound  in  the  distance.  It  was  a  .long 
tin  horn  which  Martin  used  to  sound  whenever  he  was  going  off  in 
the  cart,  so  that  the  children  might  hear  and  have  a  jouncing  ride 
with  him.  Away  they  ran,  throwing  away  their  lemons,  and  only 
afraid  lest  they  should  be  too  late  to  catch  Martin. 

Now  Salah  was  left  alone,  but  she  was  lying  on  her  back  and  look- 


MASTER   HIGH  FLYER.  105 

ing  up  into  a  tree.  The  more  she  looked  the  more  sure  she  was  that 
she  saw  Master  High  Flyer  in  the  branches.  It  did  not  seem  possible, 
for  she  supposed  he  had  flown  away  into  the  sky.  She  did  not 
know  what  to  do.  Should  she  speak  first?  She  wondered  if  the 
messenger  had  reached  Master  High  Flyer.  She  finally  thought 
she  would  cough. 

"  What !  "  came  a  voice  from  the  branches.  "  Oh,  cough  again  '  " 
but  Salah  kept  quiet. 

"  Dear,  dear ! "  said  Master  High  Flyer  sadly,  for  it  was  indeed 
he,  "  I  thought  I  heard  my  dear  Salah,  but  I  must  give  all  up,  I  see, 
and  rot  here  among  the  branches." 

"  Can  he  have  got  the  message  or  no  ?  "  thought  Salah,  but  she 
was  so  perplexed  about  it  that  she  did  not  notice  that  she  had  said 
it  aloud. 

"  The  message  !  "  cried  Master  High  Flyer.  "  Then  you  did  send 
it !  and  you  said  what  I  wanted  you  to,  and  now  you  are  there  !  0 
Salah  !  " 

"  Well,"  said  Salah,  as  composed  as  she  could,  "  yes,  I  am  here." 

"  But  come  up  !  come  up  !  "  said  he,  impatiently.  "  I  cannot  see 
you." 

"  Oh,  you  come  down,"  said  she  ;  but  just  then  a  breath  of  wind 
made  Master  High  Flyer  lean  forward  a  little,  and  they  saw  each 
other  fully,  and  he  was  so  woe-begone  with  his  hard  flight  that  Salah 
could  keep  back  no  longer,  and  she  cried,  — 

"  Dear  High,  I  wish  I  could  get  to  you." 

How  glad  she  was  then  when  Kitty  came  scampering  up  through 
the  grass.  It  was  Lucy's  kitty,  who  had  often  played  with  Salah, 
and  now  began  capering  about. 

"  Do,  dear  Kitty,"  take  me  up  into  the  tree." 


106  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

"  Into  the  tree  ?  Well,  I  will,  but  you  will  be  better  off  down 
here,  I  assure  you  What  is  there  in  the  tree  ?  "  But  Kitty  took 
her  up  by  the  waist  and  went  nimbly  up  the  tree.  "  Here  we  are," 
said  she ;  "  why,  I  do  believe  here  is  Master  High  Flyer  —  oho  ! 
you  knew  that,  Miss  Salah,"  said  Kitty,  mischievously,  and  bounded 
down  again. 

And  there  was  Salah  at  last  with  Master  High  Flyer,  and  the 
leaves  grew  about  them  so  thick  that  they  were  not  seen  all  the 
summer  long,  but  lived  together  in  the  boughs  and  looked  at  each 
other  and  told  stories,  beginning  with  when  they  were  born.  The 
autumn  came,  and  when  the  leaves  dropped  off,  there  was  Master 
High  Flyer  still,  but  he  had  withered  down  to  two  sticks  and  a  bit 
of  twine  ;  and  Salah  was  there  too,  and  she  was  old  and  ragged 
and  pinched  in  her  face  ;  but  they  still  sat  with  one  another  and 
never  knew  that  they  were  grown  old,  for  they  were  eternally  talk- 
ing about  the  days  when  they  were  young. 


CHATPER  VII. 

PROFESSOR   WISE. 

THE  children  had  been  going  to  school  every  day  all  this  time, 
but  as  June  came  to  an  end,  they  began  to  talk  busily  of  what  they 
should  do  in  vacation.  Only  a  few  days  more,  and  vacation  would 
come  to  last  for  eight  weeks.  Vacation  usually  lasted  six  weeks, 
but  this  year  the  school-house  was  to  be  enlarged,  and  that  would 
take  time,  so  two  weeks  were  added  to  vacation.  What  a  grand 
hurrah  and  scamper  there  was  when  the  last  day  of  school  came. 


~+-l 


SCHOOL'S  OUT. 


PROFESSOR    WISE.  109 

There  was  a  hill  near  the  school-house,  covered  with  green  grass, 
and  down  this  the  children  all  rushed,  some  of  them  tumbling  down, 
and  one  venturesome  little  girl  rolled  over  and  over.  They  all 
came  to  a  sudden  stop  at  the  low  stone-wall  at  the  bottom  of  the  hill. 

Nathan,  Phippy,  and  Lucy,  ran  home  quite  out  of  breath. 

"  Hurrah  !  "  cried  Nathan,  "  no  more  school  for  me.  I  'm  going 
to  work  on  the  farm  now,"  and  he  stalked  grandly  about. 

"  Martin  !  "  said  he,  "  I  can  help  you  a  good  deal  now  the  next 
eight  weeks.  I  shan't  go  to  school  again.  I  suppose  we  shall  have 
to  get  in  another  crop  of  hay  before  long,"  and  he  stood  with  his 
hands  behind  him  and  looked  out  on  the  lawn,  while  Martin  was 
rubbing  down  Mr.  Bottom  who  had  just  come  in  from  drawing  the 
carryall. 

"I  wouldn't  say  that  too  loud  so  's  Mr.  Bottom  can  hear,"  said 
Martin.  "  He  doesn't  like  drawing  the  hay  cart." 

"Do  you  suppose  he  can  hear?  "  asked  Nathan. 

"  Well,  Hen  used  to  say,  that  our  horse  could  laugh.  He  used  to 
put  his  head  out  of  the  window  and  grin  at  us." 

"  I  guess  I  '11  feed  my  pig,"  said  Nathan,  who  could  always  do 
that  when  there  was  nothing  else  to  do.  He  went  to  the  house  and 
found  his  mother  in  the  wood-shed,  with  a  long  apron  on,  moving 
about  with  pans  and  dishes. 

"  Is  it  ice-cream  ? "  asked  Nathan,  eagerly.  May  I  turn  the 
freezer  ?  " 

"  Yes,  it 's  ice-cream,"  said  she,  "  and  you  can  see  if  you  can  make 
it  come  in  five  minutes."  Mrs.  Bodley  brought  out  some  salt  and 
ice,  and  packed  the  wooden  case  round  the  tin  can  that  held  the 
custard,  and  Nathan  took  hold  of  the  handle  and  began  to  turn 
briskly.  Pretty  soon  Phippy  and  Lucy  came. 


110  DOINGS   OF  THE  BOD  LEY  FAMILY. 

"  Is  it  coming,  Thanny  ? "  asked  Phippy,  with  great  interest. 
"  Does  it  go  hard  ?  " 

"  Pretty  soon,"  said  Nathan,  turning  away,  industriously. 

"  Let 's  open  the  cover  and  look  in,"  said  Phippy.  "  No,  I 
would  n't  though,  the  salt  will  get  in.  Here,  let  me  take  hold,"  and 
she  stood  and  tried  to  turn  with  Nathan. 

"  Are  you  going  to  make  it  round  ?  "  asked  Lucy.  "  I  thought 
it  came  out  in  little  monuments." 

"  We  make  it  round  first,"  said  Phippy,  who  never  was  at  a  loss 
for  an  answer.  "  Seems  to  me  it 's  growing  harder,  Nathan.  See 
how  black  my  hands  are." 

"  That 's  the  lead,"  said  he,  "  off  the  handle.     It 's  poisonous." 

"  Then  I  '11  go  right  away  and  wash  it  off,"  said  she,  in  alarm. 

"  I  wonder  where  mother  is,"  said  Nathan,  presently.  "  I  think 
there  's  something  wrong  about  this  ice-cream.  I  suppose  I  must 
have  been  turning  here  as  much  as  quarter  of  an  hour.  Lucy,  I 
wish  you  'd  see  if  you  can  find  mother." 

"  I  'm  right  here,  Thanny,"  said  his  mother  from  the  kitchen. 
"  Turn  away,  patiently.  You  've  only  turned  four  minutes."  Na- 
than kept  on  for  some  time  longer,  while  Lucy  went  off  to  find 
Phippy. 

"  Mother !  "  he  called,  faintly,  but  she  did  not  answer.  "  I  wonder 
if  I  can  stop  now.  It 's  getting  harder.  I  suppose  it  would  all  go 
back  again  though  if  I  did  stop.  Mother !  I  wonder  if  they  make 
ice-cream  in  the  shops  so,"  he  went  on  to  himself.  "  It  must  be  an 
awful  kind  of  a  store  to  keep." 

"  Well,  Nathan,"  said  his  mother  coming  in  and  finding  him  sit- 
ting before  the  freezer,  "  has  it  come  yet  ?  " 

"  Oh,  mother,  it 's  never  going  to  come,"  said  he,  disconsolately, 
"  and  I  think  the  pig  ought  to  be  fed." 


PROFESSOR    WISE.  Ill 

"  Well,  I  am  through  with  my  work,"  said  she,  "  and  I  '11  turn  it 
till  it  comes.  You  can  find  the  children  and  feed  the  pig,  if  you 
want  to."  Presently  she  heard  them  marching  along,  and  coming 
through  the  shed. 

"  Where  are  you  going  ?  "  she  asked,  as  Nathan,  heading  the  pro- 
cession, led  them  through  the  shed,  holding  an  umbrella  under  his 
arm. 

"  I  'm  the  great  Professor  Wise,"  said  Nathan,  making  a  low  bow, 
"  and  I  'm  going  up  in  a  balloon,  and  coming  down  in  a  parachute. 
These  are  my  neighbors,  ma'am,  who  wish  to  see  me  go  up,  turn  ti 
turn,  turn,  turn  ti,  turn  turn,"  and  off  they  marched. 

"  I  don't  see  your  balloon,  Nathan,"  said  Lucy,  who  was  walking 
gravely  behind. 

"  Oh,  we  '11  make  believe  about  the  balloon,"  said  he  ;  "  it 's  going 
to  get  caught  on  top  of  the  stone-wall,  and  I  'm  coming  down  in  a 
parachute.  Here,  Phippy,  you  take  the  umbrella,  the  parachute  I 
mean,  while  I  climb  up  here."  So  he  climbed  up  to  the  top  of  the 
wall.  "  Now  hand  me  the  parachute,  little  girl,"  said  he,  and  he 
opened  it  carefully.  "  Now  you  '11  see  the  great  Professor  Wise  who 
has  reached  the  extraordinary  altitude  of  three  thousand  feet,  come 
down  without  harm,"  and  so  saying  he  held  the  umbrella  over  his 
head  and  jumped  off  the  wall. 

"  How  does  it  feel,  Nathan,"  asked  Phippy,  who  was  eager  to  try 
it  herself. 

"  It  feels  like  flying,"  said  Nathan,  waving  his  arm.  "  I  will  now 
proceed  to  jump  off  the  barn." 

"  Oh,  you  must  n't,  Nathan,"  said  Lucy.     "  You  can't." 

"  I  will  first  alight  from  the  pig-house,"  said  Professor  Wise, 
marching  in  that  direction  with  his  umbrella,  the  children  following 


112  DOINGS  OF  THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

him.  It  was  not  very  difficult  to  climb  upon  the  fence  and  then 
upon  the  roof,  where  cleats  had  been  nailed,  and  Nathan  now  stood 
proudly,  waving  his  umbrella,  on  the  ridge. 

"  Oh,  you  must  n't,"  screamed  Lucy. 

"  I  want  to  try,"  said  Phippy.     But  Nathan  waved  her  off. 

"  Children,"  said  he,  "  the  day  is  not  favorable  for  an  ascension, 
and  Professor,  Wise  gives  notice  that  to-morrow  at  the  same  hour,  he 
will  go  up  in  his  balloon,  admission  twenty-five  cents,  children  half 
price.  Here,  Phip,  take  the  umbrella,"  and  he  lowered  it  and  let  it 
drop  point  downward  to  the  ground.  The  fact  was,  matters  looked 
differently  to  Professor  Wise,  when  he  was  actually  on  top  of  the  pig- 
house,  though  he  had  long  planned  to  jump  off  the  top  with  the  par- 
achute. Now  it  happened,  as  he  began  to  come  down  the  roof,  back- 
ward, one  of  the  cleats  gave  way  under  his  foot,  —  he  was  on  his 
hands  and  feet,  with  his  back  arched  like  a  tomcat's,  and  he  began 
to  slip,  slip  over  the  hot  shingles  and  could  find  nothing  to  catch  by. 
Lucy  ran  crying  to  her  mother,  and  Phippy  called  out,  — 

"  Catch  hold  of  a  cleat,  Nathan,"  but  Nathan  was  frightened,  and 
the  end  was  that  over  the  edge  he  went,  and  came  down  with  a 
pretty  bad  tumble  upon  the  ground. 

"  Oh,  I  've  broken  my  leg,"  said  he,  piteously,  and  began  to  wail. 

"  Where,  where  !  "  said  his  sister,  and  at  this  moment  Mrs.  Bod- 
ley  came  running  out,  followed  by  Lucy  in  tears.  Nathan  sobbed 
louder  than  ever  when  he  saw  his  mother.  She  began  to  raise  him, 
but  he  screamed  with  pain. 

"  Call  Martin,  Philippa,"  said  she ;  and  Martin  presently  came. 

"  I  think  Nathan  has  sprained  his  ankle,  Martin,"  said  she.  "  I 
am  not  strong  enough  to  lift  him.  Please  take  him  up  carefully  by 
his  shoulders  and  thigh,  and  bring  him  into  the  house."  Martin 


PROFESSOR    WISE.  113 

took  the  little  fellow  up  tenderly,  and  the  little  procession,  which  had 
followed  Professor  Wise  so  gayly,  now  returned,  mourning,  with  him. 
He  was  carried  up-stairs,  and  put  to  bed.  His  ankle  was  badly 
swollen,  but  his  mother  knew  how  to  treat  it,  and  she  bathed  it  and 
put  on  a  liniment,  and  soon  he  dropped  asleep. 

When  he  awoke,  it  was  to  see  little  Lucy  standing  before  him  with 
a  plate  of  ice-cream  in  her  hand. 

"  Did  it  come  ?  "  he  asked,  dreamily.  "  My  head  aches.  I  think 
I  should  like  some  ice-cream."  Lucy  handed  it  to  him,  timidly,  and 
he  ate  it  with  great  relish,  and  then  lay  back  and  half  closed  his 
eyes. 

"  I  suppose  I  shall  have  to  have  a  crutch,  Lucy,"  said  he.  Phippy 
and  her  mother  were  in  the  doorway,  watching. 

"  0  Nathan,  you  shall  have  my  stilts,"  said  Phippy. 

"  Hush,"  said  Mrs.  Bodley.  "  Don't  talk  to  Nathan  now.  He  is 
tired  and  wants  to  sleep,"  so  she  sent  the  children  away  to  play, 
while  she  sat  down  beside  him,  and  gently  smoothed  his  forehead. 
Phippy  and  Lucy  went  off  sorrowfully. 

"  I  suppose  we  shall  have  to  draw  Nathan  about  in  a  cart,"  said 
Phippy. 

"  Perhaps  we  can  teach  Nep,"  said  Lucy.  Nep  was  the  big  New- 
foundland dog. 

"Lucy,  you're  a  jewel.  We  will  teach  Nep,"  said  Phippy. 
"  Let 's  go  and  ask  Martin  this  very  minute. 

When  Mr.  Bodley  came  home  at  night,  he  heard  the  story,  and 
was  very  sorry  for  poor  Nathan. 

"  This  is  the  first  day  of  my  vacation,  papa,"  said  the  little  boy  in 
a  melancholy  tone.  "  I  suppose  1  shall  have  to  stay  here  over 
Fourth  of  July." 


114  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

"  You  will  have  to  keep  very  quiet,  my  boy,"  said  his  father, 
"  but  if  you  do  as  mama  tells  you,  and  keep  your  foot  very  still,  I 
hope  that  before  the  vacation  is  over,  you  will  be  running  about  as 
usual.  Now  see  how  brave  you  can  be  these  hot  days." 

"  I  hope  Martin  will  feed  my  pig  regularly,"  said  Nathan  in  a  re- 
signed tone.  "  I  think  I  should  be  quite  happy  if  I  thought  my  pig 
was  fed  regularly." 

"  I  '11  see  that  Martin  feeds  him.  He  shall  have  a  special  nice 
dinner  every  day.  I  suppose  he  did  not  know  what  to  make  of  it 
when  he  heard  his  master  on  the  top  of  his  house." 

"  Did  you  ever  sprain  your  ankle,  papa  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  sprained  it  once  very  badly  when  I  was  traveling  with 
your  mama  in  Europe,  and  I  remember  one  day  when  I  was  wheeled 
about  in  a  chair  on  wheels  that  I  saw  a  sight  that  interested  me  very 
much,  because  it  made  me  think  how  very  useful  legs  are.  Which 
would  you  rather  do  without,  Nathan,  arms  or  legs  ?  " 

"  I  think  I  'd  rather  have  my  legs,"  said  Nathan,  "  for  then  \ 
could  run  about,"  and  he  looked  ruefully  down  at  his  bandaged 
ankle. 

"  But  you  could  n't  take  hold  of  anything,  or  even  feed  yourself,  if 
you  had  no  arms,"  said  his  father,  "  and  you  could  not  write  or  use 
a  pencil  or  draw.  Do  you  think  you  could  draw  with  your  toes  ?  " 

"  Why,  no,"  said  Nathan.  "  I  don't  suppose  I  could  hold  the 
pencil." 

"  Well,  one  day  when  I  was  in  Antwerp,  wheeled  about  as  I  said 
in  my  little  wheel-chair,  your  mother  and  I  came  into  a  room,  where 
people  were  hard  at  work  with  brushes  and  colors,  copying  pictures 
and  painting ;  and  there  among  them  was  a  man  without  arms,  sit- 
ting in  a  chair,  before  an  easel,  one  leg  thrown  over  the  other,  and 


PROFESSOR    WISE. 


115 


a  brush  held  between  two  toes.    He  was  painting,  and  there  he  came 
every  day  and  painted  pict- 
It  made  me  think  how 


ures. 

much  one  could  do,  if  he 
really  had  a  mind  to  do  it, 
even  if  he  had  no  arms.  I 
have  heard  of  another  man 
too,  who  had  neither  the  use 
of  his  arms  nor  his  legs  and 
used  to  paint,  holding  a  brush 
between  his  teeth.  But  here 
comes  mama  with  your  bowl 
of  blueberries  and  cream." 
Nathan  was  soon  eating  his 
supper  with  a  great  relish. 

"  I  suppose  you  and  father 
will  have  to  tell  me  a  great 
many  stories  now,"  said  he, 
between  two  mouthfuls. 

"  I  suppose  you  will  amuse 
yourself  a  good  deal  with 
books,  and  pencils,  and  toys,"  said  his  mother. 

"  I  think  I  should  like  to  hear  about  '  Bumble-Bug  and  Bumble- 
Bee,'  said  Nathan,  after  his  mother  had  tucked  him  into  bed.  He 
lay  there,  folding  his  hands  over  his  breast,  as  he  always  did  when 
he  went  to  sleep,  and  looked  very  patient,  and  also  as  if  he  meant  to 
have  a  very  pleasant  time  listening  to  stories. 

"  Do  you  really  want  to  hear  about  Bumble-Bug  ? "  said  his 
mother.  "  You  have  heard  it  a  great  many  times." 


-:=»- 

The   Armless   Painter 


116  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

"  Yes  'm,"  said  he,  meekly.  "  I  should  like  to  hear  about  Bumble- 
Bug,  if  you  would  just  as  lieve  tell  it."  So  Mrs.  Bodley  sat  down 
and  told  him  for  the  hundredth  time 


TEIE  FAMOUS  BATTLE  OF  BUMBLE-BUG  AND  BUMBLE-BEE. 


Bumble-Bug  and  Bumble-Bee 

Agreed  to  fight  a  battle  ; 
For  Bumble-Bug  said  Bumble-Bee 

Had  lighted  on  his  apple. 
So  Bumble-Bug  to  Bumble-Bee 

Cried  out,  "  Come,  sir,  right  down, 
Or  I  will  take  you  on  my  horns? 

And  toss  you  out  of  town." 

But  Bumble-Bee  told  Bumble-Bug 

Apples  were  his  to  eat ; 
And  bade  the  Buggy  get  away, 

With  all  his  ugly  feet. 
Then  Bumble-Bug  began  to  swell, 

And  Bumble-Bee  to  buzz, 
And  soon  they  had  their  little  heads 

All  in  a  little  fuzz  : 


PROFESSOR    WISE.  117 

And  Bumble-Bug  began  to  climb 

The  apple  round  and  red, 
And  as  he  went  a-bugging  up, 

To  Bumble-Bee  he  said : 
"  I  '11  show,  you,  sir,  old  Bumble-Bee, 

Whose  apple  you  are  eating  ; 
I  '11  push  you  off  upon  the  ground, 

And  give  you,  sir,  a  beating." 


Then  Bumble-Bug  and  Bumble-Bee 

Begin  their  famous  battle, 
And  soon  both  tumble  headlong  down 

From  off  the  big  round  apple. 
But  Bumble-Bug  soon  scrabbles  up, 

And  opens  wide  his  eyes  ;  » 

And  Bumble-Bee  shakes  out  his  wings, 

And  at  Sir  Buggy  flies. 

The  Bumble-Bug  tried  hard  to  scratch, 

The  Bumble-Bee  to  sting  ; 
The  Bee  put  out  the  Buggy's  eye, 

The  Bug  tore  off  Bee's  wing. 


118 


DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

Then  Bumble-Bug  and  Bumble-Bee 

Each  took  a  little  rest ; 
Sir  Bug  laid  down  upon  his  back,  * 

Sir  Bee  upon  his  breast. 


"Come,  Bumble-Bug,"  said  Bumble-Bee, 

"  Let 's  talk  this  matter  over, 

As  we  are  resting  here  a  bit, 

Under  this  shady  clover." 
"  T  was  all  your  fault !  "   cried  Bumble-Bug ; 

"  'T  was  yours !  "   buzzed  Bumble-Bee  ; 
"I  found  the  apple  first,"  said  Bug, 

"  Under  the  apple-tree." 


Ah,  ha !   ah,  ha ! "  cried  Bumbe-Bee. 
"  Just  like  a  great  black  Bug ! 


PROFESSOR    WISE. 

I  '11  warrant  you  from  out  the  ground 
Your  dinners  oft  have  dug ; 

But  I  —  /  found  the  apple, 
Up  in  the  apple-tree  ; 

I  get  my  dinners  clean  and  sweet, 
I  am  a  Bumble-Bee." 

Then  Bumble-Bug  said  he  'd  get  up, 

And  kill  the  Bee  outright ; 
And  Bumble-Bee  began  to  buzz, 

All  ready  for  the  fight. 
j\i  'twas  a  fearful  sight  to  see, 

As  Bug  with  lifted  horns, 
Went  dash  with  all  his  might  at  Bee, 

With  great,  black,  shining  horns  ! 


119 


<r 


Just  then  a  tiny  Ant  spoke  out, 

From  off  her  little  hill, 
And  said :   "  Alas,  most  noble  sirs, 

My  heart  with  grief  you  fill. 
To  see  a  Bumble-Bee  and  Bug, 

As  like  as  any  brothers, 
Go  scratch  and  sting,  at  eye  and  wing, 

Till  each  has  spoiled  the  other's ! 


120  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

"The  apple,  big  and  red  and  round, 

Is,  sure,  enough  for  all  ; 
'T  would  last  a  little  Ant  like  me 

The  summer  and  the  fall. 
There  Bumble-Bee  could  sip  the  juice, 

While  Buggy  nibbed  the  skin, 
And  I,  with  hundred  other  Ants, 

Could  tid-bit  out  and  in. 

"  'T  is  yours,  't  is  mine  ;    behold  how  fair, 

With  wealth  for  each,  untold  — 
This  rounded  sphere  of  juicy  pulp, 

This  rind  of  red  and  gold  ! 
How  pleasant,  too,  as  we  have  read, 

How  good  a  thing  'twould  be, 
Together  as  a  family 

To  dwell  in  unity." 


Then  Bumble-Bug  and  Bumble-Bee 

Were  very  much  ashamed, 
While  thus  the  quiet  little  Ant 

Their  wicked  conduct  blamed; 
And  tears  stood  in  that  flashing  eye, 

Down  drooped  that  vaunting  wing, 
As  each  pledged  each  to  never  more 

Do  such  a  naughty  thing. 


PROFESSOR    WISE.  121 

But  not  the  tear  in  Buggy's  eye, 

Nor  Bumble's  drooping  wing, 
Can  take  from  out  their  little  hearts 

Remembered  scratch  and  sting. 
And  ever,  when  they  meet  again, 

On  pretty  fruit  or  flower, 
They  think,  with  still  repenting  hearts, 

Upon  that  battle  hour. 


When  Mrs.  Bodley  had  finished,  Nathan  was  fast  asleep.  She 
kissed  him  gently,  and  went  out  softly  from  the  room.  Phippy  and 
Lucy  were  in  their  father's  lap  upon  the  front  door-steps. 

"  0  mother,"  said  Phippy,  eagerly,  "  papa  is  going  to  get  a  har- 
ness for  Nep,  and  is  going  to  harness  him  in  the  little  cart,  and 
when  Nathan  gets  better,  Nep  will  drag  him  over  hill  and  dale." 

"  Most  likely,"  said  she,  laughing.  "  He  will  drag  him  anywhere 
but  over  the  road." 

"  We  '11  teach  him,"  said  Mr.  Bodley.  "  Nep  is  a  bright  dog. 
Here,  Nep,  get  my  paper.  Go,  old  dog."  Nep  heard  this  order,  and 
jumped  up  from  the  grass  where  he  was  lying,  and  trotted  down  the 
shady  avenue.  At  the  end  of  the  avenue  was  a  wooden  box  with  a 
lid  to  it,  and  the  boy  who  brought  the  evening  newspaper  had  been 
told  to  put  it  in  this  box,  so  that  he  need  not  come  away  up  to  the 
house.  Nep  trotted  up  to  the  box,  put  his  fore  paws  on  the  wall 


122  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

near  by,  raised  the  lid  with  his  nose,  put  his  head  inside,  seized  the 
paper  with  his  teeth,  and  came  running  back  to  the  house  with  it, 
and  laid  it  at  Mr.  Bodley's  feet. 

"  Good  dog,"  said  he,  patting  him  on  his  head.  "  Good  dog," 
and  Nep  wagged  his  tail,  and  looked  very  much  pleased.  Then  the 
little  girls  went  to  bed. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

THIRD   OP   JULY. 

NATHAN'S  ankle  grew  well  and  strong  but  slowly,  and  it  was  pretty 
hard  for  him  to  keep  quiet  in  the  long,  bright  vacation  days.  He 
played  with  Mouse  Castle  a  good  deal,  and  the  two  little  mice  came 
to  know  him  very  well,  and  would  eat  crumbs  out  of  his  hand,  run- 
ning down  the  little  ladder  and  upon  his  hand,  which  he  held  at  the 
foot  of  the  ladder.  Mouse  Castle  was  not  kept  in  his  bedroom,  but 
he  used  to  feed  the  little  fellows  every  morning  as  soon  as  he  was 
dressed,  and  before  he  had  his  own  breakfast.  What  was  his  aston- 
ishment one  morning,  when  he  came  to  lift  off  the  roof  and  look  into 
the  bed-room,  to  see  snugly  stowed  away  in  the  cotton  bed  a  little 
plain  brown  mouse,  that  had  found  out  this  castle  in  the  night-time, 
and  after  trying  to  get  at  the  little  white  people  that  lived  in  it,  had 
gnawed  a  hole  under  the  eaves  and  so  crept  in.  The  children  were 
all  called  to  see  him,  and  the  hole  where  he  entered  stopped  up, 
but  the  little  fellow  was  very  wild  and  went  dashing  about  the 
castle,  scampering  about  for  a  place  to  escape,  while  his  white 
brethren  frisked  about  quietly,  hardly  knowing  what  to  make  of 
such  a  pother. 


THIRD   OF  JULY.  123 

Lucy  made  up  a  story  about  the  stranger  knight  that  was  wander- 
ing in  the  woods,  and  came  at  night  to  the  castle  where  he  was  ad- 
mitted and  found  two  princesses,  and  was  so  much  in  love  with  them 
both  that  he  tho'ught  he  was  bewitched,  and  wanted  to  escape ;  and 
escape  he  did  one  day,  Nathan  having  vainly  tried  to  tame  him. 
He  gnawed  another  hole  and  so  crept  out,  and  never  came  back 
again.  Nathan  amused  himself  with  his  books  and  playthings,  but 
a  week  had  not  passed  before  it  seemed  to  him  that  he  had  been  laid 
up  all  summer.  His  father  used  to  carry  him  in  his  arms  out  of 
doors  and  take  him  to  drive,  but  he  was  not  yet  able  to  walk  about, 
and  though  Nep  was  learning  to  drag  the  wagon  tolerably  well,  it 
was  hardly  safe  to  trust  him  with  a  little  boy  whose  ankle  was 
sprained.  Fourth  of  July  was  coming,  and  it  seemed  to  Nathan  as 
if  he  could  not  bear  it. 

"  You  will  have  to  play  that  you  are  a  soldier,  wounded  in  the 
battle  of  Bunker  Hill,"  said  his  father,  "  and  that  you  are  bravely 
staying  at  home  quietly,  so  as  to  be  able  to  join  your  regiment  all 
the  sooner." 

"Well,  I  will !  "  said  Nathan,  brightening  up,  and  on  the  after- 
noon before  the  Fourth,  Mr.  Bodley  took  all  the  children  to  drive, 
to  show  them  some  of  the  scenes  which  had  been  famous  in  the  War 
of  Revolution.  It  was  a  cool,  pleasant  afternoon,  and  Mr.  Bottom 
jogged  contentedly  along. 

" Do  you  suppose  Mr.  Bottom  was  ever  in  the  war?"  asked 
Phippy. 

"  No,  Mr.  Bottom  lived  peacefully  in  the  Green  Mountains  before 
he  came  to  us." 

"  Hen  was  in  the  army,  Martin  says,"  said  Nathan.. 

"  Seems  to  me  Hen  has  been  everywhere  and  done  everything," 
said  Phippy. 


124  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

"  It 's  the  Mexican  war  he  was  in,"  said  Nathan.  "  He  could  n't 
have  been  in  the  Revolutionary  War." 

"  No,"  said  Mr.  Bodley,  "  Hen  is  too  young  for  that.  Your  uncle 
was  in  the  War  of  1812,  and  your  grandfather  in  "the  Revolution- 
ary War." 

"  I  know,"  said  Nathan,  eagerly,  "  he  was  in  the  battle  of  Bunker 
Hill  where  I  was  wounded." 

"  Oh  see,"  said  Lucy,  "  look  at  those  boys  sailing  a  boat  in  a 
trough  just  like  ours.  They  've  got  a  sword,  and  a  gun,  and  a 
drum." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Bodley,  "  and  they  are  dressed,  one  in  a  navy 
suit  and  one  in  an  army  suit."  Mr.  Bodley  stopped  the  carriage  a 
moment  in  the  road,  near  the  boys.  Their  mother  was  watching 
them  from  the  window  of  their  house  near  by. 

"  Good  afternoon,  boys,"  said  Mr.  Bodley.  "  That 's  a  nice  little 
sloop  of  war  you  have  there." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  one  of  the  boys,  "  she  's  not  got  her  troops  on 
board  yet,  but  when  she  's  all  loaded  and  the  troops  are  on  board, 
we  're  going  to  send  her  to  cruise  up  and  down  the  coast  to  look  out 
for  pirates." 

"Three  cheers  for  our  Army  and  Navy,"  said  Mr.  Bodley,  and 
Nathan,  and  Phippy,  and  Lucy,  and  Mrs.  Bodley,  too,  all  joined  in 
three  merry  cheers  which  the  boys  returned  swinging  their  caps,  as 
the  carriage  drove  away.  Their  way  led  through  Cambridge,  and 
they  drove  by  the  old  elm-tree,  and  stopped  in  front  of  it. 

"  Here,"  said  Mr.  Bodley,  "  was  where  General  Washington  took 
command  of  the  American  army  on  this  very  July  3d,  let  me  see, 
fifty,  twenty-five,  yes,  seventy-five  years  ago  to-day.  You  know, 
Nathan,  he  was  from  Virginia,  and  as  most  of  the  soldiers  were  here 


OUR    ARMY    AND  NAVY. 


THIRD   OF  JULY.  127 

trying  to  prevent  the  British  from  coming  out  of  Boston,  they 
wanted  a  good  general  to  take  command,  and  the  leaders  of  the 
people  chose  General  Washington,  and  under  this  tree  he  stood,  and 
the  soldiers  saw  him,  and  after  that  they  were  the  American  army 
under  General  Washington.  Do  you  see  that  old  building  ? "  and 
he  pointed  out  one  of  the  red  brick  college  buildings.  "  That  is 
Massachusetts  Hall.  There  were  not  nearly  as  many  college  build- 
ings here  then ;  the  soldiers  were  all  camped  out  on  the  common 
right  by  us  here,  and  in  other  places  around  here,  and  it  was  rather 
hard  to  keep  the  students  at  work,  so  they  were  sent  up  to  Concord 
to  study,  and  the  soldiers  took  possession  of  the  students'  rooms. 
That  window  where  you  see  those  red  curtains  looks  out  of  the  room 
that  your  grandfather  occupied  when  he  was  a  soldier  here.  Now 
we  are  going  down  the  road,"  said  he,  as  they  turned  down  Kirk- 
land  Street,  "  which  the  soldiers  took  when  they  set  out  to  build  a 
fort  on  Bunker  Hill  in  Charlestown,  the  16th  of  June,  1775." 

"  The  17th  of  June,  papa,"  said  Nathan.  "  The  battle  of  Bunker 
Hill  was  on  the  17th  of  June." 

"Yes,  the  battle  was  on  the  17th,  but  the  soldiers  marched  from 
Cambridge  the  night  before,  and  it  was  because  the  British  found 
them  the  next  morning  behind  the  fort  which  they  built  in  the  night, 
that  they  came  over  from  Boston  and  fought  them.  Did  you  see 
that  old  house  we  just  passed  ?  That  was  where  General  Ward, 
who  was  in  command  of  the  Massachusetts  troops  at  that  time,  had 
his  head-quarters.  The  soldiers  all  drew  up  before  the  house,  and 
Mr.  Langdon,  who  was  President  of  Harvard  College  then,  stood  on 
the  steps  of  the  house,  and  prayed  with  them,  and  then  Colonel  Pres- 
cott  started  off  at  their  head,  and  led  them  down  this  road.  It  was 
nine  o'clock  at  night  when  they  started." 


128  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

"  Why  did  they  march  in  the  night  ?  "  asked  Phippy,  surprised. 
"  I  shouldn't  think  they  could  have  seen  to  inarch  in  the  dark." 

u  Oh,  yes,  they  knew  the  way,  and  did  not  want  the  British  to  see 
them.  There  were  about  twelve  hundred  of  them,  and  besides  their 
muskets,  they  carried  pick-axes  and  shovels  with  them." 

"  Well,  I  should  n't  think  any  one  could  miss  who  tried  to  hit  the 
enemy  with  a  shovel,"  said  Nathan,  "  but  I  don't  think  I  should 
like  to  have  been  hit  with  a  pick-axe." 

"  Oh,  their  shovels  and  pick-axes  were  for  digging  up  the  earth  so 
that  they  could  make  a  fort,  and  stand  behind  it  when  they  fired 
with  their  guns,"  said  his  father.  They  drove  on  by  the  old  road, 
and  so  into  Charlestown  and  to  the  hill  where  the  monument  stood. 
The  children  had  been  up  the  monument  before,  and  as  Nathan  could 
not  go  up  now,  they  did  not  get  out  of  the  carriage,  but  sat  in  it, 
looking  out  over  the  water  and  the  shipping,  and  over  to  Boston 
opposite. 

"  Just  see  how  near  Boston  is,"  said  Mr.  Bodley,  "  but  you  know 
it  was  not  nearly  so  big  a  place  then.  While  the  soldiers  were  dig- 
ging their  fort  here  on  the  hill,  there  was  a  guard  down  by  the  shore 
to  keep  watch.  There  was  no  bridge  then,  but  a  ferry,  and  as  this 
guard  stood  there,  they  could  hear  the  watch  on  the  British  men-of- 
war  singing  out '  All 's  well,'  as  every  hour  they  took  turns  in 
watching.  The  watch  did  not  hear  the  men  digging,  but  when 
morning  came,  and  they  looked  over  toward  Charlestown,  there 
on  the  hill,  right  where  we  stand,  they  saw  the  earth  thrown  up  so 
as  to  make  a  wall,  and  they  saw  the  soldiers  behind  it,  and  knew 
that  if  they  could  get  cannon  there  and  fire  them  off,  Boston  would 
not  be  a  safe  place  for  the  British  army  to  stay  in." 

"  Then  did  they  come  over  and  drive  our  men  away  ?  "  asked  Na- 
than. 


THIRD   OF  JULY.  129 

"  Yes,  they  came  over  in  the  afternoon  with  boat-loads  of  men 
and  guns,  and  here  the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill  was  fought,  and  our 
men  were  driven  out  of  the  fort  and  had  to  go  back  to  Cambridge." 

"  But,  seems  to  me  it  was  n't  much  of  a  battle  if  we  were  beaten," 
said  Nathan. 

"  We  were  farmers  and  country  people  who  knew  how  to  fire 
guns,  but  had  not  been  trained  regularly  as  the  British  soldiers  had ; 
but  the  chief  trouble  was  that  we  had  n't  powder  enough.  But  our 
soldiers  were  brave,  and  fought  hard  even  after  they  had  used  up 
their  powder,  and  showed  that  they  were  willing  to  go  into  great 
danger  to  defend  their  country,  and  that  was  what  made  the  battle 
a  .great  one.  People  had  not  been  quite  sure  whether  there  would 
be  fighting  or  not,  and  whether  the  Americans  would  stand -together 
and  really  meant  what  they  said,  but  the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill 
showed  that  they  were  determined  and  brave  men,  and  thought  less 
about  themselves  than  they  did  about  their  country,  and  so  we  cele- 
brate the  battle  every  year,  even  though  we  were  beaten  off  the 
field." 

"  Here  was  where  I  was  wounded,"  said  Nathan,  who  had  not 
forgotten  that  he  was  making  believe  he  had  been  in  the  battle. 

u  Let 's  carry  him  off,"  said  Phippy.  "  0  my  brother,  my  brother, 
you  fought  for  me,  and  my  hearth,  and  Lucy.  You  shall  have  some 
cherries  when  I  get  you  safe  home." 

"  Why  not  go  round  by  Faneuil  Hall,"  said  Mrs.  Bodley. 

"  I  mean  to  do  that,"  said  the  father,  as  he  drove  over  the  bridge, 
stopping  to  pay  toll.  "  We  '11  have  a  patriotic  afternoon."  So  they 
drove  to  Faneuil  Hall. 

"  What  makes  you  call  it  funny  Hall  ?  "  asked  Lucy.  "  I  don't 
think  it  looks  very  funny." 

9 


130 


DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 


"  Funn'l  Hall,  Lucy,"  said  her  mother.  "  It  was  named  after  Mr. 
Peter  Fane uil,  who  built  it  and  gave  it  to  the  town." 

"  It  is  bigger  now  than  when  he  gave  it,"  said  Mr.  Bodiey.  "  I 
have  a  picture  at  home  which  I  will  show  you  this  evening,  that  will 
give  you  an  idea  of  how  it  looked  in  the  Revolutionary  War.  Here 
the  people  used  to  gather,  for  it  was  their  town-hall,  and  ever  since 


• 


Faneuil   Hall  as  it  was. 


it  has  been  the  place  where  great  meetings  have  been  held,  and 
great  speeches  made."  The  family  all  went  inside  and  looked  at  the 
•pictures,  but  they  were  most  of  them  portraits  that  did  not  interest 
them  very  much.  They  were  rather  more  interested  in  the  market 
beneath,  with  the  bushels  of  eggs  and  firkins  of  butter  crowding  the 
sidewalks  even. 

"  It  must  take  a   great  many  hens  to  lay  all   these  eggs,"  said 
Phippy. 


THIRD   OF  JULY. 


131 


"  Yes,"  £aid  Nathan.  "  I  suppose  they  have  to  lay  them  all  at 
once  too ;  only  think  of 
it !  thousands  of  hens 
laying  eggs  all  at  once," 
and  he  looked  very  sol- 
emn, remembering  their 
own  hens  and  how  few 
eggs  they  got  from  them. 
On  their  way  out  of 
town,  as  they  jogged 
along,  the}^  suddenly 
heard  music. 

"  Oh,  here  's  a  band  !  " 
said  Lucy.  "  Do  let 's 
stop."  So  they  stopped 
the  carriage  and  looked 
at  the  band  of  German 
musicians  who  were  play- 
ing in  the  street.  It  was 
rather  a  poor  part  of  the 
city  that  they  were  go- 
ing through,  and  men, 
women,  and  children  were  on  the  door-steps  and  at  the  windows,  or 
gathered  about  the  musicians  in  the  street.  The  men  had  pipes  in 
their  mouths,  but  they  all  locked  as  if  they  enjoyed  the  music.  One 
little  girl  about  Lucy's  age,  in  a  big  sun-bonnet,  held  a  rag  doll  in  her 
arms,  and  was  so  interested  that  she  did  not  notice  how  she  was  hold- 
ing the  doll,  and  it  surely  must  have  had  a  headache,  for  its  head  was 
hanging  down  so.  The  musicians  themselves  were  blowing  at  their 


Portrait  of  Samuel   Adams  the   Patriot,   in   Faneuil   Hall. 


132  DOINGS  OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

instruments  in  the  most  business-like  way.  One  big  fellow  found  his 
so  heavy  that  he  had  to  rest  it  on  a  hydrant.  He  had  a  pipe  stick- 
ing out  of  his  coat-pocket,  and  looked  as  if  he  should  enjoy  it  very 
much  when  he  was  through  with  his  work.  The  family  stayed  to 
hear  one  tune  through,  and  then  Lucy,  holding  some  money  in  her 
hand,  timidly  called  to  one  old  fellow  in  spectacles  who  had  been 
playing  in  a  lonely  fashion  almost  by  himself,  and  they  drove  on, 
while  the  musicians  marched  off  to  play  somewhere  else. 

"  I  wish  I  could  see  that  little  girl  again  with  the  organ  —  Lisa,'* 
said  Lucy.  "  I  wish  she  would  come  out  to  see  us."  But  though 
they  saw  a  hand-organ,  it  was  not  Lisa's  father  who  carried  it,  and 
there  was  no  Lisa  and  no  monkey.  It  was  not  long  before  they 
were  home  again,  and  Nathan  had  been  lifted  out  and  placed  on  a 
cushion  in  the  front  doorway,  the  children's  favorite  place,  where 
they  could  see  the  Jersey  cow  feeding  on  the  lawn  and  could  look 
off  upon  the  pretty  country. 

"  Won't  you  give  us  a  story  before  tea,  mama  ?  "  asked  Phippy. 
"  We  are  all  here,  and  Nathan  will  have  to  be  carried  up  pretty 
soon." 

"  Well,  what  shall  it  be  ?     Harry  O'Hum  or  Bumble-Bug  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Harry  O'Hum,"  cried  Phippy.  "  That 's  a  first-rate  story." 
So  Mrs.  Bodley  sat  down  on  the  door-step  and  told  them  the  story 
of 

HARRY  O'HUM  BOTH  SIDES  OF  HIS  DRUM. 

When  Harry  O'Hum 

First  belted  a  drum, 
It  was  one  that  his  father  had  bought  him ; 

And  the  tunes  that  he  played, 

And  the  racket  he  made, 
Were  such  as  the  muster-days  taught  him. 


v ..;  /-.' 


THIRD   OF  JULY. 

And  a  brave  little  drum 

Was  this  "  Trim-i-te*-trum," 
Right  merrily  answering  every  call, 

As  it  went  up  the  street 

To  a  march  or  retreat, 
With  Harry  behind  it,  so  straight  and  so  small. 


135 


And  boys  that  were  taller, 

And  boys  that  were  smaller, 
With  geese  racing  off,  and  dogs  racing  after, 

Were  up  and  a-coming, 

When  Harry,  a-drumming, 
Went  out  for  a  bedlam  of  frolic  and  laughter. 

Then  the  neighbors  would  say, 
,"  "  Just  hear  that  child  play  ! 

It  beats  all,  I  declare!    I  could  listen  all  summer." 

And  all  about  town, 

And  the  towns  up  and  down, 
Little  Harry  was  known  as  the  Wonderful  Drummer. 


133  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

Oh  these  were  the  days 

Of  the  beautiful  plays, 
When  Harry  to  greatness  was  likely  to  come  ; 

Since  the  way  to  be  great 

Is  to  work  and  to  wait, 
And  to  keep  yourself  always  right  side  of  your  drum. 


'T  was  a  pity  that  Harry 

Had  not  heard  of  poor  Barry,  — 
How  he  came  to  his  end  with  a  horse  and  a  gun  ; 

For  he  longed  to  be  bigger, 

And  to  cut  a  great  figure, 
And  to  do,  all  at  once,  what  had  never  been  done. 

So,  all  by  himself, 

And  sly  as  an  elf. 
He  found  him  the  largest  drum  ever  was  seen  ; 

'T  was  as  big  as  a  barrel,  — 

As  a  very  large  barrel,  — 
So  large  that  the  shopman  asked,  "  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 


THIRD   OF  JULY.  137 


"  Of  course,  sir,"  said  Harry, 
"  This  drum  I  can't  carry  ; 

But  just,  sir,  to  take  the  whole  town  by  surprise, 
I  shall  stand  up  inside, 
And  drum  as  I  ride, 
Ana  so  be  the  wonder  of  all  who  have  eyes." 


And  scarce  was  it  said 

When,  with  feet,  hands,  and  head, 
Plumped  into  its  depths  our  hero  lay  ; 

In  came  a  stout  man, 

His  face  brown  as  tan, 
And  bought  the  big  drum  and  took  it  away  i 

And  Harry  was  right; 

For,  long  before  night, 
The  town  was  astir  with  a  wondrous  surprise: 

All  the  bells  of  the  steeple, 

All  the  shouts  of  the  people, 
In  search  of  a  boy  who  was  lost  from  their  eyes. 


,138  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

But  Harry  the  Drummer 

Came  no  more  to  the  summer,  — 
No  more  to  the  campus  of  rollicking  boys  ; 

But,  instead,  an  old  fellow 

With  a  voice  like  a  bellow, 
And  a  drum  that  he  banged  with  tremendous  noise. 

Then  the  neighbors  would  say, 
"  Just  hear  that  man  play  ! 

It  beats  all,  I  declare!     I  can't  bear  it  a  minute. 
What  on  earth  is  the  matter? 
One  would  think,  by  the  clatter, 

That  the  very  Old  Harry  and  all  were  in  it !  " 

« 

Alas,  not   Old  Harry, 

But  Harry,  young  Harry  ! 
Nothing  left  but  the  "drumsticks,"  of  Harry  O'Hum: 

Not  to  walk  up  the  street, 

But  to  beat,  beat,  beat, 
Because  they  are  now  the  wrong  side  of  his  drum. 

"  Trim-i-te-trum,"  cried  Phippy,  clapping  her  hands.  "  Mother, 
I  wish  we  had  a  drum." 

"  So  do  not  I,"  said  she.  "  You  shall  have  drumsticks  when  we 
have  chickens  for  dinner,  but  I  would  rather  hear  your  merry  voices, 
than  have  you  go  about  pounding  on  sheep-skin." 


FOURTH  OF  JULY.  139 

CHAPTER    IX. 

FOURTH   OF   JULY. 

EVEN  at  Roseland  the  firing  of  guns  and  ringing  of  bells  could  be 
heard  Fourth  of  July  morning.  The  children  were  up  at  day-break, 
but  poor  Nathan  was  not  allowed  to  leave  his  bed,  and  he  groaned 
to  himself  as  he  heard  the  popping  of  crackers  and  cracking  of  tor- 
pedoes outside,  for  Phippy,  who  had  been  furnished  with  a  bunch  of 
crackers,  could  not  wait  until  after  breakfast,  but  fired  them  oif  one 
by  one  until  not  a  single  one  was  left,  except  a  precious  "  double- 
header  "  which  she  was  saving  for  a  special  explosion ;  and  Lucy, 
though  she  was  a  little  frightened,  could  not  help  trying  a  few  tor- 
pedoes, since  they  did  not  burst  or  explode,  unless  she  threw  them 
away  from  her.  Nothing  could  induce  her  to  fire  off  a  cracker, 
however.  „ 

"  Well,  Phippy,"  said  her  father  at  breakfast,  "  I  suppose  you 
are  going  to  have  a  grand  time  firing  off  your  crackers  to-day." 

"  She  's  fired  them  all  off,"  said  Lucy. 

"  What ! '  already  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  've  got  my  double-header  left,"  said  Philippa,  bravely. 
"  I  have  n't  fired  that  off  yet." 

"  I  've  saved  my  bunch,"  said  Nathan,  rather  dolefully.  "  I  sup- 
pose I  shall  have  to  fire  them  off  sitting  down." 

"  Now,  what  do  you  say,  children,"  said  Mr.  Bodley,  "  to  our  hav- 
ing a  picnic  this  morning  in  the  woods  ?  "  Nathan  burst  into  tears. 
"  Oh,  you  shall  go,  Thanny,  if  the  rest  of  us  do,"  said  his  father. 
"  If  your  mother  says  we  may  go,  we  will  all  go  to  May's  Woods 
this  morning,  and  carry  our  dinner  with  us,  and  will  find  a  way  of 


140  DOINGS   OF   THE  BOD  LEY  FAMILY. 

getting  Nathan  there."  Mrs.  Bodley  was  as  willing  as  any  one,  so 
after  breakfast  they  all  set  about  getting  things  in  readiness  for  their 
picnic.  They  filled  the  ice-cream  freezer  with  milk,  and  packed  it 
with  ice  and  salt,  so  that  though  they  could  not  have  ice-cream, 
they  could  have  good,  cool  milk  ;  then  they  cut  thin  slices  of  bread, 
and  buttered  them  —  Mr.  Bodley  did  this,  and  he  nicked  one  or 
two  slices  which  he  had  buttered  rather  more  heavily  than  the  rest, 
so  as  to  know  them  when  they  had  their  lunch,  and  he  could  give 
them  to  Nathan  who  dearly  loved  to  have  his  butter  well  laid  on. 
They  had  some  potatoes,  too,  and  some  baking  apples,  for  they  meant 
to  have  a  little  fire  in  the  woods,  though  Mr.  Bodley  had  kept  this 
a  secret.  There  was  a  cold  chicken  in  the  basket.  It  had  been 
cooked  the  day  before,  much  to  the  children's  astonishment,  who 
thought  it  remarkably  fortunate.  The  fact  was,  their  father  and 
mother  had  thought  of  the  picnic  two  or  three  days  before,  and  had 
plaimed  the  surprise. 

Then  they  set  out  for  the  woods.  Martin  was  obliged  to  stay 
behind  and  keep  watch  of  the  house  and  premises,  but  Nep  went 
with  them,  and  kept  his  eye  on  the  basket,  and  his  nose,  too,  some- 
times. And  how  did  Nathan  go  ?  Oh,  Nathan  went  in  the  little 
cart,  and  it  was  big  enough,  not  only  to  hold  him,  but  to  hold  the 
basket  of  goodies.  Nep  had  dragged  the  cart,  but  as  he  did  not 
always  keep  to  the  road  and  sometimes  tumbled  the  cart  into  the 
ditch,  it  was  thought  best  not  to  have  him  drag  Nathan  and  the 
basket.  It  would  have  been  unfortunate  to  tip  poor  Nathan  over ; 
and  to  tip  the  basket  over  !  that  would  have  been  unfortunate,  too. 

May's  Woods  were  beyond  the  pasture.  There  was  a  strip  of 
woodland  first,  called  Long's  Woods,  and  after  passing  through  that 
they  came  to  a  stone-wall  over  which  they  climbed,  and  then  by  n 


FOURTH 'OF  JULY.  141 

pleasant  path  into  May's  Woods  and  so  to  May's  Pond,  which  was  a 
little  sheet  of  water  which  had  once  been  walled  in,  but  except  in 
very  dry  weather  usually  overflowed  its  boundaries,  and  in  winter 
made  a  capital  skating-pond.  The  place  was  not  much  visited,  and 
the  Bodleys  found  a  shady  place  not  far  from  the  pond,  where  they 
proceeded  to  encamp.  The  little  cart  was  drawn  up  on  one  side 
under  a  tree,  and  the  basket  left  in  it.  They  spread  shawls  and 
there  Nathan  sat,  and  the  rest  did  not  wander  far  away.  Nathan 
amused  himself  by  sending  Nep  into  the  pond,  but  as  soon  as  Nep 
came  out,  the  rest  would  call  him  off  into  the  woods,  for  Nathan  of 
course  could  not  run,  and  it  was  no  great  fun  to  have  the  big  New- 
foundland dog  shake  himself,  down  'to  a  final  wriggle  of  his  tail, 
within  two  or  three  feet  of  where  the  little  boy  sat. 

"  I  think  this  will  be  a  good  time  now  to  fire  off  my  double- 
header,"  said  Phippy. 

"  Oh  no,  Phippy,"  said  Nathan,  "  let 's  keep  it  and  fire  it  off  for  a 
noon  gun.  I'll  fire  off  some  of  my  crackers  now." 

"  Well,"  said  she,  glad  to  keep  the  double-header  a  little  longer, 
"  I  '11  help  you.  fire  off  the  crackers,"  and  they  fired  and  fired,  until 
not  a  cracker  was  left. 

"  They  're  all  gone,"  said  Phippy,  "  now  for  my  double-header." 

"  Oh  no,  wait,  Phippy.     Please  wait." 

"  Well,"  said  she.  At  this  moment  back  came  the  others,  who 
had  been  walking  about  and  gathering  flowers  near  by,  wood  violets, 
and  anemones,  and  late  columbines. 

"  Are  all  your  crackers  gone,  Nathan  ?  "  asked  his  father.  "  I 
heard  a  prodigious  cannonading." 

"  They  're  all  gone,"  said  Phippy,  "  but  my  double-header. 
Would  you  like  to  hear  that  ?  " 


142  DOINGS   OF    THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

"  Why  don't  you  keep  it,  Phippy,"  said  her  mother,  "  as  a  gun  to 
call  us  to  dinner,  when  the  time  comes." 

"  Well,  I  will.  Is  n't  it  'most  time  for  dinner  ?  I  begin  to  feel 
hungry." 

"  Oh,  we  must  celebrate  the  Fourth  nrstj"  said  her  father. 
"  When  people  celebrate  the  Fourth  of  July,  they  eat  a  dinner,  but 
first  they  have  speeches  and  music.  I  think  we  ought  to  have  sqme 
music  at  any  rate,"  and  he  drew  from  his  pocket  a  jew's-harp,  a  har- 
monica, a  rattle,  a  penny  whistle,  and  a  pair  of  bones.  The  chil- 
dren clapped  their  hands  with  delight,  and  foegan  stretching  out  for 
the  toys.  "  Let  me  see,"  said  he,  "  there  are  just  enough  to  go 
round,  but  we  have  n't  any  audience,  and  shall  have  to  pretend  that 
Nep  and  the  bugs  and  beetles  are  the  audience."  He  gave  the 
penny  whistle  to  Nathan,  the  rattle  to  Lucy,  the  harmonica  to 
Phippy,  kept  the  bones  for  himself,  and  then  gave  the  jew's-harp  to 
Mrs.  Bodley. 

"Now,  Nathan,  you  can  be  leader;  you  must  beat  the  air  with 
your  penny  whistle,  just  as  the  leader  of  the  orchestra  does,  then 
clap  it  into  your  mouth  and  we  '11  all  play  Yankee  JDoodle  just  as 
hard  as  we  can."  It  was  a  most  successful  concert.  Away  went 
the  tune  in  every  direction.  Mrs.  Bodley  breathed  it  forth  from 
the  jew's-harp ;  Phippy  and  Nathan  thought  they  played  it  on  their 
instruments  ;  Lucy  sprang  her  rattle  vigorously  ;  and  above  all  was 
heard  the  clapping  of  the  bones  in  a  most  lively  fashion. 

"  Now,  papa,  make  a  speech,"  said  Nathan. 

"  No,  I  won't  make  a  speech ;  we  '11  celebrate  the  Fourth  in  our 
own  fashion,  and  each  of  us  will  tell  a  story.  Lucy  shall  tell  one' 
first.  Come,  Lucy." 

"  You  tell  one  first,  Phippy,  while  I  try  to  think  of  one,"  said 
Lucy. 


FOURTH  OF  JULY.  143. 

"  Well,  I  '11  tell  one,"  said  Phippy.  "  But  would  n't  you  fire  off 
my  double-header  first?" 

"  Oh  no,  Phip,"  said  Nathan.     "  Don't  let 's  fire  it  off  yet." 

"  Well,"  said  she,  sitting  up  very  straight,  "  I  '11  tell  you  a  story 
I  read  in  a  book  once.  Once  upon  a  time  there  were  two  men  who 
were  traveling  through  a  desert.  The  desert  was  full  of  sand:  It 
was  an  immense  desert,  oh,  an  immense  desert." 

"  As  big  as  our  place  ?  "  asked  Lucy. 

"  Oh,  ten  thousand  times  bigger,  and  it  was  full  of  sand.  When 
you  walked,  you  kept  putting  your  feet  into  this  smooth,  hot  sand, 
and  it  was  very  prickly.  "  No,  the  sand  was  n't  particularly  prickly, 
but  there  were  prickly  plants  in  it,  all  full  of  little  teenty  bits  of 
prickles,  and  if  you  ran  them  into  your  foot,  you  would  think  you 
had  stepped  into  a  wasp's  nest.  Then  what  comes  next  ?  Oh,  I 
know,  these  two  travelers  were  walking  across  this  immense  desert, 
and  they  had  walked  for  days  and  days,  and  were  awfully  tired, 
when  they  be,gan  to  see  mountains  in  the  distance,  and  so  they  knew 
they  were  coming  near  to  water,  and  they  were  dreadfully  thirsty. 
Well,  they  walked  and  they  walked  over  this  immense  desert  of 
sand  "  — 

"  Seems  to  me  they  have  n't  got  on  at  all,"  said  Nathan,  impa- 
tiently. 

"  Oh,  you  wait,  Nathan  ;  they  '11  come  to  something  pretty  soon. 
As  they  walked,  and  thought  they  never  should  cqine  to  a  mountain, 
suddenly,  all  at  once,  what  do  you  think  they  saw  ?  " 

"  A  spring,"  said  Lucy. 

"  An  oasis,"  said  Nathan. 

«  They  saw  a  hillock." 

"  Oh,  pshaw  !  "  said  Nathan,  "  that  was  n't  much  to  see." 


144  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

"  Yes,  but  what  if  you  should  see  a  hillock  begin  to  rise  right  up 
so/'  said  the  little  girl,  gradually  rising  and  throwing  her  arms  up, 
while  her  voice  grew  shriller,  "  and  the  hillock  should  turn  into  a 
Tremendous  Giant  that  doubled  up  his  fist  and  set  up  a  great  roar, 
and  look  as  if  he  was  going  to  eat  up  the  two  poor  travelers.  They 
shook,  and  they  quaked  for  fear,  and  tried  to  get  behind  each  other, 
and  one  did  get  behind  the  other,  and  he  told  him  to  be  gentle  and 
not  to  irritate  the  giant.  Then  the  giant  roared  out : 

" (  Let  me  pound  you  to  atoms  of  dust  —  who  are  you  that  dare 
to  come  into  my  dominion  ? '  Then  the  one  who  was  in  front  spoke 
up  and  said  : 

"  '  0  good  giant,  we  are  only  walking  through  this  immense  desert, 
but  there  is  a  great  caravan  behind  us,  with  figs  and  dates  and  all 
sorts  of  splendid  things  in  it,  and  we  can  lead  them  this  way,  if  you 
will  first  let  us  go  into  the  mountains  beyond,  and  bring  back  word 
of  what  we  find  there.'  Now  the  tremendous  giant  was  a  stupid 
giant,  and  he  believed  them ;  and  so  he  let  them  go  by  and  they 
never  came  back,  but  lived  in  peace,  and  died  in  Greece." 

"  And  what  became  of  the  giant  ?  "  asked  Nathan. 

"  Oh,  he  tumbled  over  after  a  while.  No  he  did  n't  either.  He 
waited  for  the  caravan  and  it  never  came,  and  he  got  angry  and 
blew  up.  People  sometimes  blow  up  when  they  get  very  angry. 
Now  let's  fire  off  my  double-header." 

"  No,  no,"  said  Nathan,  "  we  ought  to  hear  all  the  stories  first. 
Now,  Lucy,  it  's  your  turn." 

"  I  don't  think  I  know  any  stories  now  that  I  can  tell,"  said  she. 

"  Well,  you  know  some  poetry  don't  you  ? "  asked  Nathan. 
"  Every  one  must  do  something,  because  it's  Fourth  of  July." 

"  Don't  you  know  '  Dimple  and  Rosy  wing  '  ?  "  asked  her  mama. 


THE  TREMENDOUS  GIANT. 


FOURTH  OF  JULY. 


147 


"  So  I  do.     I  '11  say  that,"  and  she  looked  very  much  pleased,  and 
said,  quite  prettily,  the  little  fairy  tale  of 

DIMPLE  AND  ROSY  WING. 

Under  the  daisies  two  little  fairies, 
Dimple  and  Rosywing, 


"  Up  and  down  they  balanced  and  swung." 

Across  a  stem  of  red  strawberries 
Made  a  grass-blade  tilt  and  swing. 


148  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

"  Ho  !  "  said  Dimple,  ~"  now  for  a  ride  ;  " 
"Now  for  a  tilt,"  said  both  together; 
One  on  each  end,  they  jumped  astride, 
And  up  went  Dimple,  light  as  a  feather  ; 

And  down  in  the  grass  went  Rosy  wing ; 

But  he  kicked  with  his  dainty  feet, 
And  up  he  went,  with  a  flutter  and  spring, 

Up  where  the  daisies  and  grass-heads  meet. 

Up  and  down  they  balanced  and  swung, 

And  laughed  so  loud,  the  bumblebees 
Turned  on  the  clovers  where  they  hung, 

And  stared,  and  rubbed  their  dusty  knees. 

A  grasshopper,  walking  up  a  daisy, 

Cheered  and  cheered;   and  a  cricket  frisked 

Out  of  his  hole,  as  if  he  were  crazy, 

Cackled  and  laughed,  and  back  he  whisked. 

By  and  by,  at  the  close  of  day, 

Their  mother  came ;  and  when  they  told  her, 

She  kissed  them,  and  gayly  bore  them   away, 
Dancing  off  with  one  on  each  shoulder. 

"  Now,  papa,"  said  Nathan,  who  seemed  to  have  taken  it  on  him- 
self to  direct  the  proceedings,  "  I  think  we  will  hear  your  story 
now." 

"  How  would  you  like  to  hear  about  old  Paul  Bodley,  whose  tomb 
you  found,  back  by  the  ledge  ?  " 

"  Oh,  do  tell  us  about  him,"  cried  the  children. 

"He  was  P.  B.,  1675,"  said  Phippy,  promptly. 


FOURTH  OF  JULY.  149 

"  Yes,  that  was  the  year  he  died,  a  hundred  and  seventy-five 
years  ago.  He  was  your  great,  great,  great,  great  grandfather." 

"  Oh  dear,"  said  Lucy,  softly.  "  Was  he  as  big  as  Phippy's 
giant?" 

"  Big  ?  Oh  no,  he  was  quite  a  little  man,  judging  from  his  pict- 
ure. He  came  in  a  ship  from  England  about  ten  years  before  he 
died  here,  and  he  brought  with  him  his  wife  and  one  little  boy.  He 
was  a  rope-maker  in  England,  so  when  he  came  over  here,  the  first 
thing  he  did  after  building  a  log  house,  was  to  make  a  rope-walk." 

"  Why,  there  isn't  any  water  round  the  ledge,"  said  Nathan. 

"  Oh,  it  wasn't  necessary  to  build  his  rope-walk  like  those  you 
have  seen  in  marshy  places.  He  did  not  build  any  house  over  it  at 
all,  but  drove  posts  into  the  ground,  fastened  cords  to  them,  and 
walked  back  and  forth,  twisting  them.  Then  his  house  was  not  like 
ours.  It  was  built  of  logs,  the  chinks  filled  in  with  earth,  and  the 
roof  thatched  with  grass  ;  but  after  a  while  he  came  to  be  a  well-to- 
do  man  and  he  built  a  frame  house  ;  the  upper  story  coming  out  be- 
yond the  lower  story,  and  the  roof  sloping  behind  nearly  down  to 
the  ground.  He  had  a  great  chimney  in  the  middle,  and  a  fire-place 
so  big  that  logs  four  feet  long  could  be  burned  in  it.  In  the  corner 
was  a  seat,  and  there  little  Jacob  Bodley,  who  was  ten  years  old 
when  his  father  brought  him  over,  used  to  sit,  and  he  could  look  up 
through  the  chimney  at  night,  and  see  the  stars  shining.  There 
they  lived,  eating  hasty-pudding,  and  wild  turkeys,  and  geese,  and 
drinking  cider  and  beer,  which  they  made  themselves,  and  Paul  Bod- 
ley  and  his  son  made  rope,  and  as  there  were  ships  made  and  fitted 
out,  they  found  they  could  sell  as  much  rope  as  they  could  make. 
The  Indians  used  to  come  by  and  stop  often,  but  they  were  near  the 
town,  and  no  one  did  them  any  injury,  but  by  and  by,  there  was  a 


150  DOINGS  OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

war  between  the  Indians  and  English,  which  was  called  King  Philip's 
War,  because  the  chief  Indian  went  by  the  name  of  King  Philip. 
The  Indians  began  to  be  very  troublesome.  There  was  one  who 
came  to  the  house  of  a  man  named  John  Minot,  who  lived  not  a 
great  way  from  here  in  Dorchester.  John  had  gone  to  church  with 
all  his  family,  except  a  servant-girl  and  two  small  children.  The 
girl  saw  the  Indian  coming,  and  was  afraid  and  barred  the  door,  and 
the  Indian  found  he  could  not  get  into  the  house,  so  he  fired  his  gun 
into  it  hoping  to  hit  somebody.  But  what  should  this  brave  girl  do, 
but  get  out  a  couple  of  copper  kettles,  and  put  one  over  each  of  the 
children,  and  then  she  went  up-stairs  and  got  a  gun,  and  fired  at  the 
Indian.  She  wounded  him  in  the  shoulder,  but  he  had  found  out 
there  was  no  one  but  this  girl  in  the  house,  so  he  broke  a  window 
and  was  crawling  in  through  it,  when  she  rushed  to  the  fire-place, 
took  up  a  shovel,  and  shoveled  some  burning  coals,  and  then  ran  at 
him  with  them.  That  made  him  crawl  back  and  get  away  as  fast  as 
he  could.  You  see  in  those  days,  one  needed  to  be  very  brave. 
Well,  old  Paul  Bodley,  though  he  was  not  so  very  old,  was  a  mem- 
ber of  one  of  the  military  companies  that  marched  out  to  attack  the 
Indians.  He  was  in  Captain  Mosley's  company,  and  all  I  can  find 
out  was  that  he  was  killed  in  one  of  the  excursions,  and  his  body 
was  brought  back  and  buried  where  the  old  tomb  is.  But  Jacob 
was  now  twenty  years  old,  and  he  stayed  with  his  mother,  and  in 
course  of  time  he  was  married,  and  so  the  family  was  kept  up.  The 
old  house  was  deserted  years  ago,  and  gradually  dropped  to  pieces, 
and  now  there  are  no  signs  left  of  it.  And  that  is  all  I  can  tell  you 
about  your  great,  great,  great,  great  grandfather.  Now  I  think 
we  ought  to  have  a  story  from  your  mother." 

"  I  won't  tell  a  long  story,"  said  she,  "  but  this  pond  makes  me 


FOURTH  OF  JULY. 


151 


think  of  a  sight  I  saw  a  few  years  ago,  when  I  was  walking  here. 
Your  father  and  I  had  come  out  from  the  city  for  a  walk,  and  he  was 


showing  me  where  old  Paul  Bodley  once  lived,  and  then  we  came 
through  the  woods,  and  into  this  path  and  by  the  pond.     Just  below 


152  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

here  where  you  see  that  old  fence  and  the  trees  and  rocks,  we  saw 
two  boys  playing  with  a  sail-boat.  The  boat  had  its  sail  set,  and  a 
little  wooden  man  was  leaning  against  the  mast,  the  captain  I  sup- 
pose he  was.  One  of  the  boys  was  kneeling  down  by  it,  and  talking 
to  the  other  who  was  on  the  bank. 

"  '  Boys,'  I  called  out,  but  they.did  not  answer  me,  though  they 
were  so  near.  Your  father  threw  a  stone  into  the  water.  It  struck 
behind  them,  and  made  a  noise,  but  they  did  not  turn  round. 
'  They  must  be  very  busy/  said  I  to  your  father,  when  just  then  I 
noticed  that  one  of  them,  instead  of  holding  up  something  in  his 
hand,  as  I  thought  he  was  doing,  made  his  fingers  go,  and  then  I 
saw  that  he  was  talking  with  his  fingers  to  the  other." 

"  Why,  mother,"  said  Nathan,  "  how  could  he  ?  " 

"  They  were  both  deaf  and  dumb,  Thanny ;  they  could  neither 
hear  anything  that  was  said,  nor  speak  to  each  other  as  we  can,  but 
they  could  make  signs  with  their  fingers,  for  that  is  the  way  the 
deaf  and  dumb  talk.  So  your  father  and  I  went  up  to  them.  I  can 
talk  with  my  fingers,  and  I  talked  with  them,  and  I  found  that  they 
had  corne  out  here  to  play  with  their  boat,  and  had  been  on  opposite 
sides  of  the  pond,  playing  that  they  were  sending  a  ship  across  the 
Atlantic ;  and  now  one  of  them  had  run  quite  round  the  Atlantic,  by 
way  of  Greenland,  he  explained  to  me,  to  see  if  his  ship  had  got 
safely  in." 

"  I  should  like  to  have  seen  that,"  said  Phippy.  "Why  can't  we 
have  a  boat  to  sail  here,  and  then  I  could  fire  off  my  double-header 
when  it  started.  Nathan,  it 's  your  turn  to  tell  a  story."  Nathan 
knit  his  brows,  trying  to  think  of  something  he  said  he  meant  to  tell. 
Then  he  began  :  — 

"  This  is  the  story  of  a  boy  named  John  Tobey  "  — 


FOURTH  OF  JULY.  155 

."  Why,  John  Tobey  goes  to  our  school,"  said  Phippy,  "  and  his 
father  's  got  a  donkey." 

"  Now,  Phippy,  that 's  real  mean.     You  '11  spoil  all  my  story." 

"  Go  on,  Nathan,"  said  his  father.  "  Phippy  was  taken  aback  by 
your  story,  it  was  so  life-like.  She  won't  interrupt  you  again." 

"  Well,  John  Tobey  was  a  kind  boy,  and  he  had  a  donkey,  and 
would  n't  the  donkey  go  ?  Oh,  yes,  yes.  One  day  he  harnessed  him 
in  a  cart,  and  he  asked  another  boy  who  went  to  the  same  school, 
whose  name  began  with  N  "  — 

"  Nathan !  Nathan !  "  shouted  both  Phippy  and  Lucy  at  once. 

"  No  it  wasn't,"  said  he,  triumphantly,  "  it  was  Nicholas." 

"  Oh,  Nick  Green,"  said  Phippy. 

"  Now,  Phippy,  you  said  you  would  n't,"  and  Nathan  looked  very 
much  injured. 

"  Let  Nathan  finish  his  story,"  said  his  mother.  "  We  want  to 
hear  what  happened  to  John  Tobey  and  the  boy  whose  name  began 
with  N." 

"  Well,  John  Tobey  asked  that  other  boy  if  he  would  n't  like  to 
take  a  ride  with  him  in  his  donkey-cart,  so  that  other  boy  got  in, 
and  away  they  went  like  everything,  down  the  road,  and  all  the 
dogs  and  geese  along  the  road  began  to  bark  and  hiss,  and  there 
was  a  great  dust,  and  that  is  all  my  story.  Oh,  no,  there  's  another 
chapter.  There  was  another  boy  who  went  to  the  same  school,  and 
his  name  began  with  N,  too,  and  he  said  he  wished  his  father  had  a 
donkey  and  a  donkey-cart." 

"  We  must  call  Nep  a  donkey,"  laughed  Mr.  Bodley ;  and  then 
they  all -began  a  chase  after  Nep,  who  led  them  on  a  great  frolic. 

"  Now,  then,  for  my  double-header,"  said  Phippy. 

"  Wait  till  dinner,"  said  Nathan,  "  and  then  we  '11  fire  it  off  just 
before  we  sit  down." 


156  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

"  Yes,"  said  her  father,  "  you  are  wanted  now  to  help  make  the 
fire." 

"  A  fire !  "  said  Phippy,  "  are  we  really  going  to  have  a  fire  ?  " 

"  To  be  sure.  Else  how  could  we  cook  our  potatoes,  and  bake  our 
apples  ?  " 

"  Oh,  goody  !  "  cried  she,  and  in  a  moment  she  was  at  work  gath- 
ering sticks.  They  found  some  well-shaped  stones,  and  built  a  little 
fire-place  near  the  water's  edge.  Nathan  was  wheeled  up  in  the 
little  cart,  and  given  a  long  stick  with  which  first  to  poke  the  fire, 
and  then  to  skewer  an  apple  for  roasting.  Mrs.  Bodley  and  Lucy 
laid  the  table  on  a  flat  rock,  and  found  some  wild  flowers  with  which 
they  dressed  it. 

"  Dinner  's  ready  !  "  at  last  they  cried. 

"Now  for  my  double-header,"  shouted  Phippy.  They  all  put 
their  fingers  in  their  ears  while  Phippy  at  a  safe  distance  touched 
off  the  double-header,  and  watched  behind  a  tree  for  the  fusee  to> 
burn  down.  It  burned  slowly,  slowly,  and  then  fizz,  fizz!  the 
double-header  gave  a  little  squirm  and  that  was  all.  Alas  !  the 
powder  was  wet.  Phippy  remembered  that  she  had  put  it  on  a 
boat  which  she  had  sailed  in  the  trough,  and  it  might  have  tipped 
over  once  or  twice,  she  was  n't  quite  sure.  However  the  dinner 
was -good  ;  they  became  very  hot,  roasting  potatoes  and  apples,  and 
they  ate  the  chicken  and  the  bread  and  butter,  and  Nathan  had  the 
thick  pieces  because  he  had  sprained  his  ankle,  and  they  drank  the 
cool  milk  that  was  in  the  tin  pail,  and  Nep  had  a  mighty  fine  dinner 
over  chicken  bones.  It  was  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  before  they 
went  home,  and  after  tea,  though  the  children  were  pretty  sleepy, 
they  begged  to  sit  up  and  see  the  fire- works.  So  they  all  went  up 
into  the  great  play-room  and  looked  out  of  the  window  and  saw  the 


A    FAMOUS  RIDE.  157 

rockets  go  up,  and  the  roman  candles,  and  after  saying  oo !  a  great 
many  times,  finally  went  to  bed,  and  slept  soundly  all  night. 


CHAPTER   X. 

A    FAMOUS    HIDE. 

IT  sometimes  rains,  even  in  summer,  and  one  day,  near  the  end  of 
July,  there  had  been  a  cold,  easterly  storm,  which  kept  the  children 
in-doors.  Mr.  Bodley  came  home  from  the  city  at  nighjb,  and  found 
the  mother  with  Lucy  and  Nathan  in  her  room,  telling  them  stories. 
Nathan  was  able  to  walk  about  now  with  the  help  of  a  stick,  but  he 
had  to  be  pretty  careful. 

"  Where  is  Phippy  ?  "  asked  her  father. 

"  She  is  up  in  the  play-room,"  said  Lucy  ;  "  she  's  got  a  secret, 
and  we  're  not  to  come  up  till  she  calls  us."  At  this  moment, 
Phippy's  high  pitched  voice  was  heard  above,  — 

"  Come,  children  !  " 

"  We  '11  all  go,"  said  her  father,  and  he  picked  up  Nathan  and 
carried  him  puss-back.  They  climbed  the  stairs,  but  the  attic  door 
was  shut.  Mr.  Bodley  knocked.  Little  feet  were  heard  coming 
slowly  toward  the  door,  and  Phippy,  with  a  book  in  her  hand,  looking 
very  wise,  opened  the  door  and  stood  before  them. 

"  Are  you  the  school-committee  ?  "  she  asked.  "  Would  you  like 
to  come  in  and  examine  my  school  ?  " 

"  Very  much,"  said  Mr.  Bodley.  "  This  lady  may  like  to  put  her 
children  to  school  to  you." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  take  little  children,"  said  she.     "  I  only  take  poor 


158 


DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 


people  whose  education  has  been  neglected.  But  walk  in,  ladies 
and  gentlemen.  The  class  in  reading  is  now  ready  to  recite."  They 
followed  her  into  the  farther  part  of  the  room,  and  then  they  all  set 
up  a  shout,  for  Phippy  had  made  out  of  coats  and  boots  two  such 
queer  looking  bogies,  that  in  the  dark  it  was  almost  fearful  to  see 
them,  they  looked  so  alive. 


The   Bogies  at  School. 


"  Well  done  !  "  cried  her  father.     "  You  are 

"  A  grave  little  school-dame,  wiser  than  your  betters, 
You  make  your  own  scholars,  then  teach  them  their  letters." 

They  all   romped  about  the  attic,  and  finally  left  Bugaboo  and 
Fee-fo-fum,  as  Phippy  called  them,  to  sit  in  their  chairs  all  night, 


A   FAMOUS  RIDE.  159 

while  the  school-teacher  and  the  school  committee  went  down-stairs 
to  tea.  After  tea  was  always  the  children's  play  hour,  and  dearly 
they  loved  it,  whether  in-doors  or  out,  for  then  their  father  and 
mother  could  play  with  them.  Usually  in  this  summer  time  they 
were  all  out  of  doors  together,  but  to-night  this  could  not  be.  The 
storm,  too,  made  it  grow  dark  early,  and  even  cold,  so  that  they  had 
a  little  bit  of  a  wrood  fire  in  the  library,  and  all  sat  before  that. 

"  Now,  papa,  for  a  story,"  said  Phippy,  sitting  in  her  chair  very 
straight  and  smoothing  her  dress  down  in  front.  u  Mama  has  told 
us  stories  this  afternoon,  and  I  think  she  would  like  to  hear  one,  too." 

"  Well,  did  mama  ever  tell  you  the  story  of  John  Gilpin  ?  " 
The  children  had  heard  a  good  many  .stories  from  their  mama,  but 
they  could  not  seem  to  remember  one  with  that  name. 

"It  is  a  very  good  story,  though,"  said  she. 

"  I  suppose  I  could  tell  it  in  my  own  way,"  said  papa,  "  but  it  is 
so  much  better  in  the  way  it  was  written,  that  I  will  repeat  it  just  as 
William  Cowper  wrote  it." 

"  Do  you  know  William  Cowper  ?  "  asked  Nathan.  His  father 
laughed. 

"  No.  Mr.  Cowper  has  been  dead  a  good  many  years.  He  wrote 
some  very  sweet  hymns  that  we  sing  in  church,  and  he  wrote  this 
story  which  he  called 

THE  DIVERTING   HISTORY   OF  JOHN  GILPIN. 

SHOWING  HOW  HE  WENT  FARTHER  THAN  HE  INTENDED,  AND  CAME  SAFE  HOME  AGAIN. 

John   Gilpin  was  a  citizen 

Of  credit  and  renown, 
A  train-band  Captain  eke  was  he 

Of  famous  London  town. 


160  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

John  Gilpin's  spouse  said  to  her  dear,  — 
"  Though  wedded  we  have  been 
These  twice  ten  tedious  years,  yet  we 
No  holiday  have  seen. 

"To-morrow  is  our  wedding-day, 

And  we  will  then   repair 

Unto  the  Bell  at  Edmonton, 

All  in  a  chaise  and  pair. 

"  My  sister  and  my  sister's  child, 

Myself  and  children  three, 
Will  fill  the  chaise,  so  you  must  ride 
On  horseback  after  we." 

He  soon  replied,  —  "I  do  admire 

Of  womankind  but  one, 
And  you  are  she,  my  dearest  dear 

Therefore  it  shall  be  done. 

"  I  am  a  linen-draper  bold, 

As  all  the  world  doth  know, 
And  my  good  friend  the  Callender 
Will  lend  his  horse  to  go." 

Quoth  Mrs.  Gilpin,  —  "That's  well  said; 

And  for  that  wine  is  dear, 
We  will  be  furnished  with  our  own, 

Which  is  both  bright  and  clear." 

John  Gilpin  kissed  his  loving  wife, 
O'erjoyed  was  he  to  find 

That  though  on  pleasure  she  was  bent, 
She  had  a  frugal  mind. 


A    FAMOUS  RIDE.  161 

The  morning  came,  the  chaise  was  brought, 

But  yet  was  not  allowed 
To  drive  up  to  the  door,  lest  all 

Should  say  that  she  was  proud. 

So  three  doors  off  the  chaise  was  stayed, 

Where  they  did  all  get  in, 
Six  precious  souls,  and  all  agog 

To  dash  through  thick  and  thin. 

Smack  went  the  whip,  round  went  the  wheel. 

Were  never  folk  so  glad, 
The  stones  did  rattle  underneath 

As  if  Cheapside  were  mad. 

John  Gil  pin  at  his  horse's  side 

Seized  fast  the  flowing  mane, 
And  up  he  got  in  haste  to  ride, 

But  soon  came  down  again. 

For  saddle-tree,  scarce  reached  had  he, 

His  journey  to  begin, 
When  turning  round  his  head  he  saw 

Three  customers  come  in.    • 

So  down  he  came,  for  loss  of  time 

Although  it  grieved  him  sore, 
Yet  loss  of  pence,  full  well  he  knew, 

Would  trouble  him  much   more. 

'T  was  long  before  the  customers 

Were  suited  to  their  mind, 
When  Betty  screamirtg  came  down-stairs, 
"  The  wine  is  left  behind." 
11 


162  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

ft  Good  lack !  "  quoth  he,  "  yet  bring  it  me, 

My  leathern  belt  likewise, 
In  which  I  bear  my  trusty  sword 
When  I  do  exercise." 

Now  Mistress  Gilpin,  careful  soul, 
Had  two  stone  bottles  found, 

To  hold  the  liquor  that  she  loved, 
And  keep  it  safe  and  sound. 

Each  bottle  had  a  curling  ear, 
Through  which  the  belt  he  drew, 

And  hung  a  bottle  on  each  side, 
To  make  his  balance  true. 

Then  over  all,  that  he  might  be 

Equipped  from  top  to  toe, 
His  long  red  cloak,  well  brushed  and  neat, 

He  manfully  did  throw. 

Now  see  him  mounted  once  again 

Upon  his  nimble  steed, 
Full  slowly  pacing  o'er  the  stones 

With  caution  and  good  heed. 

But  finding  soon  a  smoother  road 
Beneath  his  well-shod  feet, 

The  snorting  beast  began  to  trot, 
Which  galled  him  in  his  seat. 

So,  "  Fair  and  softly,"  John  he  cried, 
But  John  he  cried  in  vain, 

That  trot  became  a  gallop  soon 
In  spite  of  curb  and  rein. 


A    FAMOUS  RIDE.  163 

So  stooping  down,  as  needs  he  must 

Who  cannot  sit  upright, 
He  grasped  the  mane  with  both  his  hands 

And  eke  with  all  his  might. 

His  horse,  who  never  in  that  sort 

Had  handled  been  before, 
What  thing  upon  his  back  had  got 

Did  wonder  more  and  more. 

Away  went  Gilpin,  neck  or  naught, 

Away  went  hat  and  wig, 
He  little  dreamt  when  he  set  out 

Of  running  such  a  rig. 

The  wind  did  blow,  the  cloak  did  fly, 

Like  streamer  long  and  gay, 
Till  loop  and  button  failing  both, 

At  last  it  flew  away. 

Then  might  all  people  well  discern 

The  bottles  he  had  slung, 
A  bottle  swinging  at  each  side, 

As  hath  been  said  or  sung. 

The  dogs  did  bark,  the  children  screamed, 

Up  flew  the  windows  all, 
And  every  soul  cried  out,  "  Well  done ! " 

As  loud  as  he  could  bawl. 

Away  went  Gilpin  —  who  but  he; 

His  fame  soon  spread  around  — 
He  carries  weight,  he  rides  a  race, 

'T  is  for  a  thousand  pound. 


164  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLKY  FAMILY. 

And  still,  as  fast  as  he  drew  near, 
'T  was  wonderful  to  view 

How  in  a  trice  the  turnpike-men 
Their  gates  wide  open  threw. 

And  now  as  he  went  bowing  down 
His  reeking  head  full  low, 

The  bottles  twain  behind  his  back 
Were  shattered  at  a  blow. 

Down  ran  the  wine  into  the  road 
Most  piteous  to  be  seen, 

Which  made  his  horse's  flanks  to  smoke 
As  they  had  basted  been. 

But  still  he  seemed  to  carry  weight, 
With  leathern  girdle  braced, 

For  all  might  see  the  bottle  necks 
Still  dangling  at  his  waist. 

Thus  all  through  merry  Islington 
These  gambols  he  did  play, 

And  till  he  came  unto  the  Wash 
Of  Edmonton  so  gay. 

And  there  he  threw  the  Wash  about 
On  both  sides  of  the  way, 

Just  like  unto  a  trundling  mop, 
Or  a  wild  goose  at  play. 

At  Edmonton  his  loving  wife 

From  the  balcony  spied 
Her  tender  husband,  wondering  mush 

To  see  how  he  did  ride. 


h 


A   FAMOUS  RIDE.  167 

"  Stop,  stop,  John  Gilpin  !     Here 's  the  house,"  — 

They  all  at  once  did  cry, 
"  The  dinner  waits  and  we  are  tired : " 

Said  Gilpin,  — "So  am  I." 

But  yet  his  horse  was  not  a  whit 

Inclined  to  tarry  there, 
For  why  ?   his  owner  had  a  house 

Full  ten  miles  off,  at  Ware. 

So  Jike  an  arrow  swift  he  flew 

Shot  by  an  archer  strong, 
So  did  he  fly —  which  brings  me  to 

The  middle  of  my  song. 

Away  went  Gilpin,  out  of  breath, 

And  sore  against  his  will, 
Till  at  his  friend  the  Calender's 

His  horse  at  last  stood  still. 

• 

The  Callender,  amazed  to  see 

His  neighbor  in  such  trim, 
Laid  down  his  pipe,  flew  to  the  gate, 

And  thus  accosted  him,  — 

«'  What  news  ?   what  news  ?   your  tidings  tell, 

Tell  me  you  must  and  shall  — 
Say  why  bare-headed  you  are  come, 
Or  why  you  come  at  all  ?  " 

Now  Gilpin  had  a  pleasant  wit, 

And  loved  a  timely  joke, 
And  thus  unto  the  Callender 

In  merry  guise  he  spoke,  — 


168  DOINGS   OF   THE  BOD  LEY  FAMILY. 

u  I  came  because  your  horse  would  come ; 

And  if  I  well  forbode, 
My  hat  and  wig  will  soon  be  here, 
They  are  upon  the  road." 

The  Callender,  right  glad  to  find 

His  friend  in  merry  pin, 
Returned  him  not  a  single  word, 

But  to  the  house  went  in. 

Whence  straight  he  came  with  hat  and  wig, 

A  wig  that  flowed  behind, 
A  hat  not  much  the  worse  for  wear, 

Each  comely  in  its  kind. 

He  held  them  up  and  in  his    turn 

Thus  showed  his  ready  wit, — 
"My  head  is  twice  as  big  as  yours, 
They  therefore  needs  must  fit. 

"  But  let  me  scrape  the  dirt  away 

That  hangs  upon  your  face  ; 
And  stop  and  eat,  for  well  you  may 
Be  in  a  hungry  case." 

Said  John,  —  l<  It  is  my  wedding-day. 

And  all  the  world  would  stare, 
If  wife  should  dine  at  Edmonton 

And  I  should  dine  at  Ware." 
% 

So  turning  to  his  horse,  he  said, 
"  I  am  in  haste  to  dine  ; 
'T  was  for  your  pleasure  you  came  here, 
You    shall  go  back  for  mine." 


A   FAMOUS  RIDE.  169 

Ah  luckless  speech,  and  bootless  boast! 

For  which  he  paid  full  dear, 
For  while  he  spake,  a  braying  ass 

Did  sing  most  loud  and  clear. 

Whereat  his  horse  did  snort  as  he 

Had  heard  a  lion  roar,    ' 
And  galloped  off  with  all  his  might 

As  he  had  done  before. 

Away  went  Gilpin,  and  away 

Went  Gilpin's  hat  and  wig; 
He  lost  them  sooner  than  at  first, 

For  why  ?   they  were  too  big. 

Now  Mistress  Gilpin,  when  she  saw 

Her  husband  posting  down 
Into  the  country  far  away, 

She  pulled  out  half  a  crown  ; 

And  thus  unto  the  youth  she  said 

That  drove  them  to  the  Bell, 
"  This  shall  be  yours  when  you  bring  back 
My  husband  safe  and  well." 

The  youth  did  ride,  and  soon  did  meet 

John  coming  back  amain, 
Whom  in  a  trice  he  tried  to  stop 

By  catching  at  his  rein. 

- 

But  not  performing  what  he  meant, 

And  gladly  would  have  done, 
The  frighted  steed  he  frighted  more, 

And  made  him  faster  run. 


170  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

Away  went  Gilpin,  and  away 
Went  post-boy  at  his  heels, 

The  post-boy's  horse  right  glad  to  miss 
The  lumbering  of  the  wheels. 

Six  gentlemen  upon  the   road 

Thus  seeing  Gilpin  fly, 
With  post-boy  scampering  in  the  rear, 

They  raised  the   hue  and  cry. 

"Stop  thief,  stop  thief — a  highwayman!** 

Not  one  of  them  was  mute, 
And  all  and  each  that  passed  that  way 
Did  join  in  the  pursuit. 

And  now  the  turnpike  gates  again 

Flew  open  in  short  space, 
The  toll-man  thinking  as  before 

That  Gilpin  rode  a  race. 

And  so  he  did,  and  won   it  too, 

For  he  got  first  to  town, 
Nor  stopped  till  where  he  had  got  up 

He  did  again  get  down. 

Now  let  us  sing,  "  Long  live  the  king, 

And  Gilpin  long  live  he, 
And  when  he  next  doth  ride  abroad, 

May  I  be  there  to  see ! " 


"  Hush  !  "  said  Phippy,  when  her  father  had  ended,  "  Nathan 's 
asleep."  So  he  was.  Much  effort  all  day  to  amuse  himself  had 
made  the  little  fellow  gallop  off  with  John  Gilpin  to  the  Land  of 


ROBBERS!  171 

Nod,  and  there  he  lay  so  sound  asleep,  that  the  stopping  of  their 
voices  did  not  awake  him. 

"  Let  's  carry  him  up-stairs,"  said  Lucy ;  so  Mr.  Bodley  took  him 
in  his  arms,  and  Mrs.  Bodley  took  a  candle  and  the  two  little  girls 
marched  before,  and  thus  they  all  went  up  to  Nathan's  room. 

"  Won't  he  be  surprised  when  he  wakes  up !  "  said  Phippy,  as  she 
and  Lucy  went  off  to  their  bed. 

Mrs.  Bodley  undressed  her  little  boy,  still  sleeping  soundly,  and 
tucked  him  into  bed.  She  looked  out  of  the  window  to  see  if  it  was 
still  raining.  The  rain  had  stopped,  but  the  wind  was  blowing  yet, 
and  she  could  see  the  honeysuckle  vine  that  climbed  up  the  trellis 
below,  tossing  in  the  wind.  It  was  a  dark  night,  and  she  thought 
of  the  ships  and  sailors  in  the  bay,  and  was  glad  it  was  not  winter. 
Then  she  kissed  Nathan  one  more  good-night,  and  going  to  her  little 
girls,  saw  them  safely  in  bed,  and  went  down-stairs  to  her  husband. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

ROBBERS ! 

IN  the  middle  of  the  night  Mr.  Bodley  waked,  hearing  a  great 
scream  from  Nathan.  Both  he  and  Mrs.  Bodley  jumped  up  and  ran 
at  once  to  the  little  room  where  he  slept.  They  found  him  sitting 
upright  in  bed,  crying  and  trembling. 

"  Why,  what  is  it  ?  "  asked  his  mother,  taking  his  head  in  her 
arms. 

"  There  !  there  !  out  of  the  window  !  "  he  cried,  and  his  father 
went  to  the  window.  It  was  wide  open.  He  looked  out,  but  could 
see  nothing,  for  it  was  very  dark. 


172  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

"  There  's  nothing  there,"  said  he  to  Nathan,  as  he  came  back. 
"  Sarah,  did  you  leave  the  window  open  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Mrs.  Bodley.  "  I  closed  it  when  Nathan  went  to 
bed." 

"  It  was  a  man!  "  said  Nathan,  trembling,  and  as  soon  as  he  could 
get  his  voice.  "  He  opened  the  window,  and  was  just  climbing  in, 
when  I  cried  and  he  went  back."  Mr.  Bodley  carried  Nathan  into 
his  own  room,  and  then  took  a  lamp  and  went  through  the  house. 
He  called  Martin,  who  slept  in  a  room  over,  the  shed,  and  they 
lighted  the  lantern  and  went  into  the  garden.  As  they  came  to  the 
trellis  over  which  the  honeysuckle  climbed,  they  found  marks  of 
boots  in  the  soft  earth. 

"  Do  you  suppose  that  trellis  would  bear  a  man,  Martin  ?  "  asked 
Mr.  Bodley. 

"  I  guess  it  did,"  said  he.  "  Look  here,"  and  he  showed  how 
the  vines  on  the  trellis  had  been  bruised,  and  there  were  marks  of 
dirt  where  the  feet  had  pressed.  They  examined  the  foot-prints, 
and  as  nearly  as  they  could  make  out  there  was  but  one  man,  and 
he  must  have  gone  away  through  the  grapery.  It  was  idle  to  follow 
him  after  such  a  lapse  of  time,  and  they  re-entered  the  house.  The 
other  children  had  not  waked,  and  Mrs.  Bodley  had  rocked  Nathan 
in  her  arms  until  he  was  soothed,  and  now  was  sound  asleep. 

"  Did  you  find  any  one  ?  "  she  whispered  to  her  husband,  as  he 
came  in. 

"  I  found  the  foot-prints  of  the  savage,"  said  he,  "  but  he  has 
rowed  off  in  his  canoe,  I  suppose." 

When  Nathan  awoke  the  next  morning,  he  was  at  first  very  much 
surprised  to  find  himself  on  the  lounge  in  his  mother's  room.  Then 
he  remembered  how  he  came  there.  His  father  and  mother  were 


ROBBERS!  173 

not  yet  awake,  and  he  lay  still,  feeling  very  safe  in  their  room,  but 
started  as  he  heard  noises  in  the  house.  He  got  up  and  limped 
across  the  floor  to  the  bed  and  shook  his  father's  arm. 

"  Papa !  papa  !  there  's  somebody  in  the  house  !  "  His  father 
woke  up  with  a  start,  and  saw  Nathan  in  his  night-gown  standing 
there,  his  eyes  very  big. 

"  Get  back  to  bed,  Nathan.  Of  course  there  's  somebody  in  the 
house.  We  're  not  all  out  of  doors."  But  they  were  all  awake  now, 
and  it  was  not  long  before  they  had  breakfast.  Nathan  had  found 
Phippy  and  Lucy,  and  told  them  the  dreadful  news,  and  the  little 
girls  were  in  great  excitement. 

"  Only  think  !  "  said  Phippy,  "  he  may  be  down  in  the  Grove 
now." 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  her  mother,  "  he  will  not  stay  about  here  now." 

"He  'd  better  not,"  said  Nathan,  who  had  already  grown  quite 
bold.  "  I  rather  think  Martin  would  fire  the  crow-bar  at  him." 

"  Is  the  crow-bar  loaded  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Bodley.  "  I  suppose  you 
would  finish  the  man  with  your  bow  and  arrows." 

"  Why,  papa,"  said  Nathan,  very  much  in  earnest,  "  the  crow- 
bar is  very  heavy,  and  Martin  can  balance  it  on  his  little  finger.  He 
says  Hen  used  to  balance  it  on  the  tip  of  his  nose." 

"That  Hen,  it  seems  to  me,  was  a  wonderful  fellow,"  said  Mr. 
Bodley.  "  Whatever  Martin  could  do,  Hen  always  seemed  to  do  a 
little  better." 

"  Hen  's  in  California,"  said  Phippy ;  "  Martin  had  a  letter  from 
him.  He  's  picking  up  chunks  of  gold,  Martin  says." 

"  I  've  no  doubt  of  it,"  said  Mr.  Bodley.  "  I  don't  believe  Hen 
would  st6op  to  a  piece  smaller  than  a  hen's  egg.  But,  Thanny,  I 
remember  reading  a  story  once  about  a  very  nimble  little  fellow> 


174  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

who  was  a  match  for  half  a  dozen  bold  ruffians.  He  was  called  Jack 
o'  the  Mill,  and  lived  in  England  a  good  many  hundred  years  ago. 
One  day  he  was  at  an  inn,  and  a  number  of  rough  fellows  in  the 
kitchen,  where  they  were  eating  supper,  began  to  plague  him.  He 
was  very  sharp  in  his  answers,  and  this  made  them  angry.  They 
said  they  meant  to  search  him,  to  see  if  he  had  any  secret  letters 
about  him,  for  it  was  a  time  when  everything  was  in  confusion  in 
England.  Jack  called  to  the  innkeeper  to  protect  him,  but  he  was 
afraid  of  the  rough  fellows  and  could  do  nothing.  Then  Jack  drew 
his  sword  and  they  all  laughed  at  him,  and  began  to  crowd  around 
him.  He  jumped  upon  the  supper  table,  and  then  sprang  upon  the- 
great  mantel-piece  over  the  huge  fire-place  that  they  had  in  those 
days.  The  men  could  not  reach  him  with  their  swords,  and  so  one 
of  them  fan  for  a  pike.  '  Have  a  care,'  cried  Jack,  and  suddenly  he 
seized  some  heavy  flat-irons  that  stood  in  a  row  on  the  shelf,  and  in 
a  twinkling  flung  them  down  one  after  another.  Over  went  the  inn- 
keeper, and  the  men  began  to  run  about  to  get  on  chairs  so  as  to 
reach  Jack.  Down  came  a  shower  of  candlesticks,  stewpans, 
cleavers;  "Stop,  stop,"  they  cried,  but  just  then  Jack  spied  a  row 
of  hams,  flitches  of  bacon  and  big  cheeses  on  a  rack  above  him.  He 
cut  the  string  that  fastened  the  rack,  and  down  they  all  came  tum- 
bling on  the  heads  of  the  men,  and  Jack,  in  the  confusion,  jumped 
down  from  his  perch  and  made  his  way  out  of  the  door.  Now,  per- 
haps, Thanny,  if  you  had  lived  in  these  days  you  would  have  been 
as  brave,  eh  ?  " 

"  There  isn't  much  room  on  the  mantel-piece,"  said  Nathan,  turn- 
ing round. 

"  No,"  said  his  father,  "  and  I  don't  think  the  little  match-safe 
and  toothpick  case  would  do  much  harm  except  to  themselves." 


, 


JACK   0'   THE   MILL. 


ROBBERS! 


177 


"  I  should  n't  think  that  man  would  like  to  have  come  in  such 
a  hard  rain-storm  last  night,"  said  Phippy." 

"  He  chose  the  night  because  it  was  so  stormy,  and  the  wind  blew 
so  that  no  one  could  hear  him." 

"  It  was  a  good  deal  of  a  storm,"  said  Mrs.  Bodley,  who  had  been 
reading  the  morning  paner.  "  They  felt  it  very  severely  in  Provi- 
dence, I  see." 


The   Great   Storm  of  1815  in   Providence. 


"Ah,  but  not  as  they  did  in  1815.  Do  you  remember  that, 
Sarah  ?  You  were  in  Providence  then,  but  you  could  only  have 
been  about  five  or  six  years  old." 

"  I  can  just  remember  it,"  said  she.     "  But  I  have  often  heard 

12 


178  DOINGS  OF  THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

my  father  tell  of  it.  The  vessels  were  all  driven  about  by  the  storm  ; 
they  finally  broke  the  bridge,  and  went  rushing  through  the  gap 
like  a  herd  of  cattle.  I  remember  being  taken  afterward  to  see  a 
sloop  that  had  floated  across  Weybosset  Street  and  finally  lodged  in 
Pleasant  Street,  by  the  side  of  a  three  story  house,  and  the  mast 
reached  up  above  the  roof.  Houses  were  carried  away  by  the  flood, 
and  a  great  deal  of  damage  was  done." 

"  Was  grandpa  hurt?  "  asked  Lucy. 

"  No,  though  he  lost  some  ships  then.  But  we  were  all  thankful 
not  to  have  our  house  blown  down  over  our  heads." 

"  Do  you  think  the  sea  could  ever  come  up  as  far  as  this  ?  "  asked 
Lucy.  "  I  can  see  it  out  of  the  play-room  window." 

"  No  indeed,  darling,"  said  her  mother.  "  We  are  safe  from  the 
sea  here.  But  it  is  too  wet  for  you  to  go  out  this  morning,  and  if 
you  will  come  up  into  my  room  when  papa  has  gone  to  town,  I  will 
tell  you  a  fairy  tale  about  the  sea." 

Nathan  did  not  care  about  the  fairy  tale,  so  he  stayed  and  played 
with  Mouse  Castle,  but  Phippy  and  Lucy  sat  down  with  their  mother 
in  her  room.  It  was  a  very  pleasant  room,  and  they  had  heard  a 
good  many  stories  there,  and  they  dearly  loved  to  draw  some  chairs 
together  just  like  grown  folks  as  they  said,  and  sit  and  have  a  good 
talk  with  mama.  Sometimes  she  'sewed  as  she  read  to  them  or 
told  them  stories,  and  sometimes  they  also  sewed,  but  this  morning 
the  children  had  been  excited  by  the  robber  and  the  stories  of  Jack 
o'  the  Mill,  and  of  the  great  flood  at  Providence,  so  Mrs.  Bodley  let 
them  draw  the  chairs  together  while  she  told  them  in  verse  a  little 
fairy  tale.  Phippy's  eyes  shone  with  delight  as  she  began,  and  Lucy 
was  pleased  too.  She  did  not  like  the  dreadful  stones,  she  said  ; 


ROB HERS ! 


179 


and  she  was  always  ready  to   hear  a  real  fairy   tale,  such  as  her 
mother  told.     This  is  the  story  which  was  told  the  children :  — 


The  Story-Teller  and  the   Little   Listeners. 


A  TALE  OF   THE  SUNSET  SEA. 

Late,  in  the  golden  sunset  light, 
A  moth  flew  past,  all  shimmering  white ; 
And  a  fairy  boy, 
With  shouts  of  joy, 
Followed  his  rapid  flight. 
"  Oh,  fairy  boy,  come  back,  come  back  !  " 

Sweet  voices  were  heard  to  cry, 
"  The  fairy  that  follows  the  white  moth's  track, 
Swept  from  the  verge  of  the  mountain  high 
By  the  winds  of  night,  shall  drowned  be, 
Far  away,  in  the  Sunset  Sea." 


180 


DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

The  fairy  boy  ne'er  stopped  to  list, 
He  fled  the  faster  and  farther,  I  wist. 


With  my  daisy  lamps,  in  the  moon   alight, 
All  round  my  chamber,  glimmering  white, 
I  pulled  a  clover-leaf  over  my  head, 
And  went  to  sleep  in  my  swinging  bed ; 

When  a  rush,  a  hue  and  cry, 
Awakened  me  from  the  gayest  dreams: 
A  troop  of  fairies  were  sweeping  by ; 

Some,  dragged  by  teams 
Of  fire-flies,  glanced  ahead  ;   and  some 
Blew  horns  of  the  honeysuckle  red, 
And  some  rang  flower-bells  overhead. 
They  shouted  to  me  "  Have  you  seen,  to-night, 

A  fairy  boy  pass  by  ?  " 
I  answered,  "  Yes,  in  the  sunset  light, 
Following  fast  the  white  moth's  flight, 

Toward  the  sunset  sky." 
With  a  scream  and  wail,  they  fled  away, 
And  were  lost  iu  the  shadows  long  and  gray. 


ROBBERS] 

When  the  sun  was  up, 
I  drank  a  cup 
Of  dew,  and  ate 

Fresh  honey  off  a  flower-leaf  plate. 
Then  I  harnessed  my  team  of  grasshoppers  green, 

To  my  car  with  the  daisy  wheels  ; 
With  my  long  whip-lash  of  grass,  I  ween, 
I  made  them  skip  o'er  the  fields. 


181 


With  long,  stout  legs,  and  clicking  wings, 
By  steady  flights,  and  jerking  springs, 
They  bore  me,  at  last,  to  the  great  white  slide 
That  lies  on  the  gloomy  mountain  side. 
I  stepped  from  my  car  on  a  bed  of  moss, 
With  sweet-grass  fringe  as  fine  as  floss, 
And  J  rang  a  blue-bell,  swinging  tall, 
Beside  the  white  elves'  castle  wall. 

A  white  elf  came 

With  a  beard  like  flame 


182 


DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

And  steel-blue  eyes, 
Round  with  surprise. 
"  O  Daisy  wing  !    is  it  you  ?  "   he  cried, 
"  So  early  up  on  our  mountain  side  ?  " 
"  Yes,  it  is  me,  Rothbart !    I  've  come 
To  borrow  your  cap  and  magical  drum  ; 
Iii  return,  I  bring  you  a  clover-horn, 


Filled  with  honey  this  very  morn  ; 

And  a  bag  of  the  golden  dust  that  grows 

Close  to  the  heart  of  the  double  rose." 

Then  he  gave  me,  with  joy,  his  wonderful  cap, 

And  his  magical  drum  ;   and  said,  — 
;  Who  wears  this  cap,  may  sit  in  the  lap 
Of  the  clouds  that  sail  o'erhead  ; 
Who  beats  this  drum  o'er  the  Sunset  Sea, 
Shall  raise  the  fairies  that  drowned  be." 

With  the  drum  in  iny  lap, 

1  put  on  the  cap, 


ROBBERS! 

When  a  light  wind  came, 

And  up  I  rose,  like  the  smoke  from  flame  ; 

A  soft,  white  cloud  floated  up  to  me, 

And  I  sat  me  down  in  its  lap, 
And  we  sailed  away  to  the  Sunset  Sea,  — 

Blest  be  the  wonderful  cap  ! 
All  day  long  we  sailed,  and  sailed. 

Through  the  blue  and  lonely  sky  ; 
Till  we  knew,  from  the  golden  fleets  we  hailed, 

That  the  Sunset  Sea  was  nigh. 


183 


Soon,  on  its  broad  and  shining  breast 
We  furled  our  sails,  and  lay  at  rest. 

Then  I  beat  on  the  magical  drum, 
And  listened  long,  but  I  heard  no  sound  ; 
Only  a  ripple  circled  round  ; 

When,  —  hush  !   a  faint,  low  hum,  — 
And  near  me  arose  a  bubble  bright ; 
It  broke,   and,  flashing  into  the  light, 

The  fairy  boy,  with  dripping  wings, 
Threw  up  his  arms,  and  cried  to  me ; 

I  caught  him  by  the  silken  rings 


DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

Of  his  hair,  and  laid  him  on  my  knee ; 
And  when  there  came  a  favoring  gale, 
The  cloud  spread  every  fleecy  sail, 

And  we  sailed  all  night 

By  the  full  moon's  light, 

And  at  dawn  by  the  great,  dark  mountain  top, 
The  cloud  let  all  its  anchors  drop. 


Then  I  went  to  Rothbart's  castle  again, 

And  gave  him  his  cap  and  drum  ; 
And  I  said,  "  O  best  of  the  elvish  men, 

Another  time  I  will  come, 
And  bring  you  the  scarlet  strawberries'  wine, 
And  drinking  horns  of  the  columbine, 
And  pillows  of  thistledown,  and  a  spread 
Of  honey-bees'  fur  to  cover  your  bed." 

He  gave  me  my  team  of  grasshoppers  green, 
And  my  car  with  the  daisy-wheels ; 


ROBBERS;'  185 

Throned  on  my  lap,  the  fairy  boy 

Shouted  with  joy, 
And  waved  my  grass-blade  lash,  I  ween, 

About  my  grasshoppers'  heels. 
Away  we  went  down  the  mountain  side, 
A  wild,  a  dizzy,  a  glorious  ride ! 
I  carried  the  boy  to  the  beautiful  dell, 
Where  all  his  fairy  kinsfolk  dwell ; 
I  set  him  down  on  a  leaf  close  by, 
Where  I  heard  a  fairy  sob  and  cry, 
And  I  sped  away  to  my  home  again  ; 
But  on  the  way  I  heard  a  strain 
Of  loud  rejoicing,  —  singing  sweet, 
And  grass-stem  flutes,  and  viols  meet 
To  measure  the  time  for  dancing  feet. 

Phippy  and  Lucy  sat  perfectly  still  to  the  end,  then  Lucy  came 
and  laid  her  head  in  her  mother's  lap,  and  Phippy  danced  out  of  the 
room  to  find  Nathan.  She  liked  variety,  and  when  she  was  done 
with  a  fairy  tale  she  was  ready  for  something  else.  As  for  Lucy, 
the  story  had  quieted  her,  and  she  liked  best  just  then  to  be  taken 
into  her  mother's  arms  and  sung  to  sleep.  It  was  a  simple  little 
song  that  her  mother  sang  to  her ;  one  she  had  sung  to  her  babies 
when  they  could  only  be  charmed  by  the  lull  of  the  music,  and  now 
sang  once  in  a  while  to  Lucy,  who  loved  the  words  as  well. 

MOTHER'S  EYES. 

What  are  the  songs  the  mother   sings  ? 
Of  birds,  and  flowers,  and  pretty  things. 
Baby  lies  in  her  arms  and  spies 
All  her  world  in  her  mother's  eyes. 


186  DOINGS   OF   THE   BODLEY  FAMILY. 

What  are  the  tales  the  mother  tells  ? 
Of  gems  and  jewels  and  silver   bells. 
Baby  lies  in  her  arms  and  spies 
All  her  wealth  in  her  mother's  eyes. 

What  are  the  thoughts  in  the  mother's  mind  ? 
Of  gentle  Jesus,  loving  and  kind. 
Baby  lies  in  her  arms  and  spies 
All  her  heaven  in  her  mother's  eyes. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE   HUNTING   OF   THE    CHEVIOT. 

NATHAN'S  ankle  was  quite  well  again  before  vacation  was  over,  and 
he  was  running  about  as  hard  as  ever,  and  climbed  quite  as  many 
trees  and  sheds  as  before.  Nep  had  been  put  in  training,  and  had 
learned  to  draw  the  little  cart  tolerably  well,  and  now  that  Nathan 
could  ride  in  it  and  drive  him  he  was  likely  to  get  considerable  prac- 
tice. The  trouble  was,  that  though  Nep  would  stand  patiently  while 
the  harness  was  fitted  to  him  and  would  take  his  place  in  the  shafts 
as  if  he  expected  to  trot  to  town  on  family  business,  he  had  certain 
plans  of  his  own  which  did  not  always  agree  with  Nathan's.  He 
could  not  understand  why  that  little  fellow  was  so  continually 
twitching  his  mouth  on  one  side  or  the  other,  and  what  earthly  rea- 

C2  /  •/ 

son  he  had  for  objecting  to  his  going  to  the  side  of  the  road  occa- 
sionally, when  Nep  knew  very  well  that  they  often  chased  each 
other  back  and  forth,  over  fences  too.  Nathan  found  one  way  to 
get  a  good  smart  trot  out  of  Nep.  He  would  get  Nep  into  the  mid- 


THE  HUNTING   OF   THE   CHEVIOT.  187 

die  of  the  avenue,  arrange  the  cart  behind  him,  get  in,  gather  the 
reins  and  then  fling  a  stone  as  far  as  he  could  down  the  avenue. 
Away  Nep  would  bound  till  he  came  to  the  stone,  which  he  would 
seize,  when  Nathan  would  get  out,  take  the  stone  away  from  him, 
throw  it  a  bit  farther,  and  in  that  way  they  got  over  the  road  in 
line  style. 

The  dog  was  not  Nathan's  only  companion.  He  had  his  rabbits 
and  he  had  his  pig,  and  from  the  amount  of  time  he  spent  looking 
into  the  pig-pen,  one  would  think  that  piggy  was  his  most  intimate 
fr,iend.  Then  there  was  Mr.  Bottom,  and  Nathan  had  begun  to  ride 
him.  He  was  a  dreadfully  hard  horse  to  ride,  but  as  Nathan  had 
never  ridden  any  other,  he  supposed  that  it  was  part  of  horseback 
riding  to  be  jounced  and  racked  as  he  was.  The  cow  was  another 
of  Nathan's  friends.  He  drove  her  to  pasture  sometimes  and  had 
even  ridden  her  when  Martin  Jed  her.  One  day  she  was  fastened 
by  a  long  rope  to  the  crow-bar  which  was  planted  in  the  lawn ;  she 
was  allowed  to  eat  all  the  grass  she  could  find  within  reach,  and  Na- 
than spied  her  lying  on  the  lawn  and  chewing  the  cud. 

"I  can  jump  over  that  cow,  Phippy,"  said  he,  "just  as  easy  as 
not." 

"  Oh  you  can't,  Nathan." 

"  Well  I  can  vault  over  her." 

"  But  she  's  higher  than  the  fence  that  you  tried  to  vault  over 
yesterday." 

"  Well,  I  can  climb  over  her,  anyway,"  said  he,  so  he  ran  up  to 
the  cow  and  began  to  clamber  over  her.  He  had  just  succeeded  in 
getting  upon  her  backbone  when  the  cow  either  finished  her  cud  or 
became  inquisitive,  for  she  got  up  on  her  legs,  and  with  the  rising, 
over  went  Nathan  upon  the  ground  more  frightened  than  hurt. 


188  DOINGS  OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

The  fact  was  when  Nathan  could  use  his  ankle  freely  again,  he 
was  so  glad  to  be  able  to  use  it,  that  he  went  leaping  and  running 
and  vaulting  in  all  directions.  What  he  liked  best  of  all  was  to  play 
leap-frog  with  his  father  and  Martin.  It  was  almost  as  hard  for 
them  to  leap  over  Nathan,  since  he  was  so  short,  as  it  was  for  him 
to  leap  over  them  in  turn,  they  were  so  large  and  tall ;  but  they 
stooped  as  low  as  they  could,  and  Nathan  generally  managed  to  get 
over  in  some  sort  of  fashion.  One  day  they  had  been  playing  at  the 
game  after  supper,  and  Martin  had  gone  off  to  feed  the  horse,  while 
Nathan  and  the  girls  sat  on  the  door-step  with  their  father.  They 
could  hear  the  frogs  in  the  distance,  for  it  was  a  warm  summer  even- 
ing, and  Nathan  suddenly  asked,  — 

"  Papa,  do  frogs  ever  play  leap-frog  ?  " 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "  I  suppose  that  their  leaping  is  rather  serious 
business  for  them." 

"  Why  do  you^call  it  leap-frog  ?  "  asked  Phippy. 

"  Oh,  it  makes  us  look  a  little  like  frogs,  when  we  go  springing 
over  each  other's  backs." 

"  I  wonder  who  first  thought  of  it,"  said  wise  little  Nathan,  look- 
ing straight  before  him. 

"  There  !  papa  can't  answer  that,"  said  Phippy. 

"  Let  me  see,"  said  he. 

"  Oh,  make  up  as  you  go  along,  papa,"  said  Lucy,  who  dearly 
loved  to  see  her  father  tell  stories,  as  she  said. 

"  Well,  puss,  if  you  '11  help  me,  I  '11  see  if  I  can  tell  how  leap- 
frog came  about.  To  begin  at  the  beginning,  a  frog  can  remember 
when  he  was  not  a  frog,  but  only  a  tadpole.  You  have  all  seen 
those  little  fellows  wriggling  through  the  water,  trying  to  get  away 
from 'their  tails.  By  and  by  their  tails  disappear  and  they  become 


THE   FROGS    PLAYING   THEIR    NATIONAL   GAME. 


THE   HUNTING   OF   THE   CHEVIOT.  191 

frogs.  What  is  it,  Lucy  ?  "  for  she  was  pulling  his  head  down,  so  as 
to  whisper  in  his  ear.  "  That 's  a  good  idea,  Lucy.  Yes,  they  leap 
for  joy,  when  they  have  stopped  being  tadpoles.  But  the  fact  is, 
I  asked  an  old  frog  once  about  it ;  he  was  a  grave-looking  old  fellow; 
with  big  eyes  and  a  white  throat.  He  threw  his  head  back  and 
looked  at  me  seriously,  and  said  that  they  had  a  custom  which  they 
had  kept  as  far  back  as  the  memory  of  frog  could  leap.  When  a 
number  of  tadpoles  came  of  age,  that  is,  became  real  frogs,  the  older 
ones  make  a  circle  in  a  good  marshy  place  by  a  pond,  and  the  oldest 
one  makes  a  little  speech  to  the  new  frogs.  Each  one  has  been 
leaping  as  high  as  he  could,  and  seeing  which  could  leap  the  highest, 
when  the  oldest  frog  reminds  them  of  the  one  proverb  which  frogs 
have.  Let  me  see,  what  was  the  proverb,  Lucy?  "  Lucy  shut  her 
eyes  very  hard  and  tried  to  think.  Then  she  drew  his  head  down. 

"  i  Look  before  you  leap,'  Lucy  says.  That  was  pretty  near,  but 
as  I  heard  it,  it  was,  i  Be  leapt  over  if  you  would  leap  over/  Every 
frog  has  to  learn  to  stoop  for  his  neighbor,  if  he  would  rise  in  the 
world  himself;  he  must  help  others  if  he  would  be  helped  himself; 
so  all  the  new  frogs  form  a  line  reaching  down  to  the  pond.  They 
all  stoop  except  the  hindmost  one,  and  he  begins  to  leap  over  the 
one  in  front,  then  over  the  rest,  and  so  on  until  he  has  leaped  over 
the  one  nearest  the  edge  of  the  pond,  and  over  him  he  goes  into  the 
water,  and  after  him  come  the  others  all  in  turn,  and  then  they  are 
regular  frogs." 

"But  how  did  men  find  it  out?"  asked  Mrs.  Bodley,  who  had 
joined  them. 

"  Oh,  some  boys  once  saw  it  and  imitated  it,  thinking  the  frogs 
were  in  fun,  but  really  you  know  it  was  very  serious  business  for 
them." 


192  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

"  I  wonder,"  said  she,  "  if  the  little  frogs  and  the  big  one  would 
not  like  some  tea  on  the  veranda  after  all  their  jumping  ?  "  They 
all  exclaimed  in  delight,  for  it  was  only  once  in  a  while  the  mother 
would  set  the  tea-table  out  on  the  little  veranda.  There  it  was 
now,  with  blackberries  and  cream,  the  blackberries  from  the  pasture, 
and  the  cream  from  the  cow  that  Nathan  tumbled  off,  and  the  chil- 
dren kept  up  a  great  chattering  all  tea-time,  while  Neptune  lay  just 
outside,  until  he  was  sent  off  down  the  avenue  to  get  the  evening 
newspaper.  It  was  the  last  day  of  vacation.  School  was  to  begin 
on  the  morrow,  so  this  was  a  kind  of  special  treat  for  the  children. 

"  Papa  !  I  wish  you  would  shave  this  evening,"  said  Nathan.  "  I 
shall  be  so  busy  in  the  morning."  Mr.  Bodley  laid  down  his  paper 
and  laughed. 

"  Don't  you  like  to  hear  ballads  except  when  I  am  shaving  ?  "  he 
asked. 

"  I  did  n't  know  as  you  could  tell  them  at  any  other  time,"  said 
Nathan,  meekly.  You  must  know  that  while  Nathan  was  lame,  he 
had  a  habit  of  going  into  his  father's  dressing-room  in  the  morning, 
and  sitting  on  a  little  stool  while  his  father  dressed  and  shaved, 
and  as  Mr.  Bodley  knew  a  good  many  ballads  by  heart,  he  used  to 
repeat  them  to  Nathan,  flourishing  his  razor  sometimes  in  a  delight- 
fully fierce  way,  as  if  it  were  a  sword.  Nathan  had  never  heard  his 
father  repeat  a  ballad  at  any  other  time,  though  he  had  tried  to  tell 
them  again  to  Phippy  and  Lucy,  who  now  begged  their  father  to 
tell  them  a  ballad. 

"  I  '11  get  your  razor,"  said  Nathan,  jumping  up.  "  I  know  where 
you  keep  it." 

"  No,  no,"  said  Mr.  Bodley.  "  I  '11  tell  you  a  ballad,  and  my  cane 
will  answer  just  as  well."  So  off  Nathan  ran  for  his  father's  cane, 
which  was  to  be  used  if  he  became  very  much  excited. 


THE  HUNTING   OF   THE   CHEVIOT.  193 

"  What  shall  it  be,  Thanny  ?  "  he  asked. 
"  Oh,  please  tell  '  The  Hunting  of  the  Cheviot/  papa." 
"  Very  well,  I  '11  tell  that,  and  if  any  of  you  children  don't  under- 
stand a  word  now  and  then,  never  mind,  just  keep  on  listening,  and 
you  '11  get  the   story."     So  he  laid  aside  his  newspaper  and  went 
back  to  the  old  days  of  England,  when  there  was  no  such  thing  as  a 
newspaper,  and  people  sang  ballads  instead  of  reading  the  news. 

THE  HUNTING  OF  THE  CHEVIOT. 


The  Percy  out  of  Northumberland 

And  a  vow  to  God  made  he, 
That  he  would  hunt  in  the  mountains 

Of  Cheviot  within  days  three, 
In  the  maugre  of  doughty  Douglas 

And  all  that  ever  with  him  be. 

The  fattest  harts  in  all  Cheviot 

He  said  he  would  kill  and  carry  them  away ; 
"  By  my  faith,"  said  the  doughty  Douglas  again, 
"  I  will  let  that  hunting  if  I  may." 

Then  the  Percy  out  of  Bamborough  came 

With  him  a  mighty  meany 
With  fifteen  hundred  archers  bold  of  blood  and  bone, 

They  were  chosen  out  of  shires   three. 

This  began  on  a  Monday  at  morn 

In  Cheviot  the  hills  so  high ; 
The  child  may  rue  that  is  unborn; 

It  was  the  more  pity. 
13 


194 


DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 


The  drivers  thorough  the  woodes  went, 

For  to  raise  the  deer  ; 
Bowmen  bickered  upon  the  bent 

With  their  broad  arrows  clear. 

Then  the  wild  thorough  the  woodes  went 

On  every  side  sheer, 
Greyhounds  thorough  the  greves  glent 

For  to  kill  their  deer. 

They  began  in  Cheviot  the  hills  above, 

Early  on  Monanday  ; 
By  that  it  drew  to  the  hour  of  noon, 

A  hundred  fat  harts  dead  there  lay. 


THE  HUNTING   OF   THE   CHEVIOT. 

They  blew  a  mort  upon  the  bent, 

They  'sembled  on  sides  sheer ; 
To  the  quarry  then  the  Percy  went 

To  the  brittling  of  the  deer. 

He  said :  "  It  was  the  Douglas's  promise 

This  day  to  meet  me  here. 
But  I  wist  he  would  fail,  verament,"  — 

A  great  oath  the  Percy  sware. 

At  the  last  a  squire  of  Northumberland 
Looked  at  his  hand  full  nigh  ; 


195 


He  was  ware  of  the  doughty  Douglas  coming, 
With  him  a  mighty  meany. 


196  DOINGS    OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

Both  with  spear;  bill  and  brand  : 

It  was  a  mighty  sight  to  see  ; 
Hardier  men,  both  of  heart  nor  hand, 

Were  not  in  Christianity. 

They  were  twenty  hundred  spearmen  good, 

Withouten  any  fail ; 
They  were  born  along  by  the  water  of  Tweed, 

I'  the  bounds  of  Tivydale. 

"  Leave  off  the  brittling  the  deer,"  he  said, 
"  To  your  bows  look  ye  take  good  heed ; 
For  never  since  ye  were  on  your  mothers  born 
Had  ye  never  so  mickle  need." 

The  doughty  Douglas  on  a  steed 

He  rode  at  his  men  beforne ; 
His  armor  glittered  as  a  glede ; 

A  bolder  bairn  was  never  born. 

"  Tell  me  who  ye*  are,"  he  says, 
"Or  whose  men  that  ye  be. 

Who  gave  you  leave  to  hunt  in  this  Cheviot  Chase, 
In  the  spite  of  me  ? " 

The  first  man  that  ever  him  an  answer  made, 

It  was  the  good  Lord  Percy  ; 

"  We  will  not  tell  thee  whose  men  we  are,"  he  says, 
"  Nor  whose  men  that  we  be ; 
But  we  will  hunt  here  in  this  chase 
In  the  spite  of  thine  and  of  thee. 

"  The  fattest  harts  in  all   Cheviot 

We  have  killed  and  cast  to  carry  them  away :  " 


THE  HUNTING   OF   THE   CHEVIOT.  197 

"  By  my  troth,"  said  the  doughty  Douglas  again, 
"  Therefore  the  one  of  us  shall  die  this  day." 

Then  said  the  doughty  Douglas 

Unto  the  Lord  Percy  : 
"  To  kill  all  these  guiltless  men, 
Alas,  it  were  great  pity. 

"  But  Percy,  thou  art  a  lord  of  land, 

I  am  an  earl  called  within  my  country, 
Let  all  our  men  upon  a  party  stand 
And  do  the  battle  of  thee  and  of  me." 

"  Now  a  curse  on  his  crown,"  said  the  Lord  Percy, 

"  Whoever  thereto  says  nay  ; 
By  my  troth,  doughty  Douglas,"  he  says, 
"  Thou  shalt  never  see  that  day. 

"  Neither  in  England,  Scotland  nor  France 

Nor  for  no  man  of  a  woman  born, 
But,  an  fortune  be  my  chance, 

I  dare  meet  him,  one  man  for  one." 

Then  bespake  a  squire  of  Northumberland, 

Richard  Witherington  was  his  name  ; 
"  It  shall  never  be  told  in  South  England,"  he  says, 
"To  King  Henry  the  Fourth  for   shame. 

"  I  wot  ye  bin  great  lordes  two 

I  am  a  poor  squire  of  land ; 
I  will  never  see  my  captain  fight  on  a  field, 

And  stand  myself  and  look  on, 
But  while  I  may  my  weapon  wield 

I  will  not  fail  both  heart  and  hand." 


198  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

That  day,  that  day,  that  dreadful  day ! 

The  first  fytte  here  I  find, 
And  you  will  hear  any  more  o'  the  Hunting  o'  the  Cheviot, 

Yet  is  there  more  behind. 

n. 

The  Englishmen  had  their  bows  ybent 

Their  hearts  were  good  enow  ; 
The  first  of  arrows  that  they  shot  off, 

Seven  score  spear  men   they  slew. 

Yet  bides  the  Earl  Douglas  upon  the  bent. 

A  captain  good  enow, 
And  that  was  seen,  verament 

For  he  wrought  them  both  woo  and  woe. 

The  Douglas  parted  his  host  in  three, 

Like  a  chief  chieftain  of  pride, 
With  sure  spears  of  mighty  tree, 

They  came  in  on  every  side ; 

Through  our  English  archery 

Gave  many  a  wound  full  wide  ; 
Many  a  doughty  they  gar'd  to  die 

Which  gained  them  no  pride. 

The  Englishmen  let  their  bows  be 

And  pulled  out  brands  that  were  bright ; 

It  was  a  heavy  sight  to  see 

Bright  swords  on  basnets  light. 

Thorough  rich  mail  and  maniple 

Many  stern  they  stroke  down  straight ; 

Many  a  freke  that  was  full  free 
There  under  foot  did  light. 


THE   HUNTING   OF   THE   CHEVIOT.  199 

At  last  the  Douglas  and  the  Percy  met, 

Like  to  captains  of  might  and  of  main  ; 
They  swapt  together  till  they  both  sweat, 

With  swords  that  were  of  fine  Milan. 

These  worthy  frekes  for  to  fight, 

Thereto  they  were  full  fain, 
Till  the  blood  out  of  their  basnets  sprent, 

As  ever  did  hail  or  rain. 

"  Hold  thee,  Percy,'"  said  .the  Douglas, 
"  And  i'  faith  I  shall  thee  bring, 
Where  thou  shalt  have  an  earl's  wages 
Of  Jamie  our  Scottish  king. 

"  Thou  shalt  have  thy  ransom  free, 

I  hight  thee  here  this  thing, 
For  the  manfullest  man  yet  art  thou 
That  ever  I  conquered  in  field-fighting." 

"Nay,"  said  the  Lord  Percy, 
"  I  told  it  thee  beforne 
That  I  would  never  yielded  be 
To  no  man  of  a  woman  born." 

With  that  there  came  an  arrow  hastily 

Forth  of  a  mighty  wane  ; 
It  hath  stricken  the  Earl  Douglas 

In  at  the  breast  bane. 

Thorough  liver  and  lungs  baith 

The  sharp  arrow  is  gone 
That  never  after  in  all  his  live  days 

He  spake  no  words  but  one: 


200 


DOINGS   OF   THE   BODLEY  FAMILY. 

That  was,  "  Fight  ye,  my  merry  men,  while  ye  may, 
For  my  life  days  be  gone." 

The  Percy  leaned  on  his  brand 

And  saw  the  Douglas  die. 
He  took  the  dead  man  by  the  hand 

And  said,  "  "Woe  is  me  for  thee  ! 


To  have  saved  thy  life,  I  would  have  parted  with 

My  lands  for  years  three, 
For  a  better  man  of  heart  nor  of  hand 

Was  not  in  all  the  north  country." 


THE   HUNTING   OF   THE   CHEVIOT.  201 

Of  all  that  saw  a  Scottish  knight 

Was  called  Sir  Hugh  Montgomery  ; 
He  saw  the  Douglas  to  the  death  was  dight, 

He  spended  a  spear,  a  trusty  tree : 

He  rode  upon  a  courser 

Thorough  a  hundred  archery ; 
He  never  stinted,  nor  never  blane, 

Till  he  came  to  the  good  Lord  Percy. 

He  set  upon  the  Lord  Percy 

A  dint  that  was  full  sore  ; 
With  a  sure  spear  of  a  mighty  tree 

Clean  through  the  body  he  the  Percy  bore, 

At  t'  other  side  that  a  man  might  see 

A  large  cloth-yard  and  mair; 
Two  better  captains  were  not  in  Christianity, 

Than  that  day  slain  were  there. 

An  archer  of  Northumberland 

Saw  slain  was  the  Lord  Percy ; 
He  bare  a  bend-bow  in  his   hand 

Was  made  of  trusty   tres. 

An  arrow  that  a  cloth-yard  was  long 

To  the  hard  steel  haled  he  ; 
A  dint  that  was  both  sad  and  sore 

He  set  on  Sir  Hugh  Montgomery. 

The  dint  it  was  both  sad  and  sore 

That  he  on  Montgomery  set ; 
The  swan  feathers  that  his  arrow  bore 

With  his  heart  blood  they  were  wet. 


202  DOINGS  OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

There  was  never  a  freke  one  foot  would  flee 
But  still  in  stour  did  stand, 

Hewing  on  each  other,  while  they  might  dree 
With  many  a  baleful  brand. 

This  battle  began  in  Cheviot 

An  hour  before  the  noon, 
And  when  even-song  bell  was  rung 

The  battle  was  not  half  done. 

They  took  on  either  hand 

By  the  light  of  the  moon  ; 
Many  had  no  strength  for  to  stand 

In  Cheviot  the  hills  aboon. 

Of  fifteen  hundred  archers  of  England 
Went  away  but  fifty  and  three  ; 

Of  twenty  hundred  spearmen  of  Scotland 
But  even  five  and  fiftie. 

But  all  were  slain  Cheviot  within  ; 

They  had  no  strength  to  stand  on  high  ; 
The  child  may  rue  that  is  unborn 

It  was  the  more  pitie. 

There  was  slain  with  the  Lord  Percy, 

Sir  John  of  Agerstone, 
Sir  Roger,  the  hynd  Hartley, 

Sir  William,  the  bold  Heron. 

Sir  George,  the  worthy  Lovel, 

A  knight  of  great  renown, 
Sir  Ralph,  the  rich  Rugby, 

With  dints  were  beaten  down. 


THE  HUNTING   OF   THE   CHEVIOT.  203 

For  Witberingtoii  my  heart  was  wo 

That  ever  he  slain  should  be  ; 
For  when  both  his  legs  were  hewn  in  two, 

Yet  he  kneeled  and  fought  on  his  knee. 

There  was  slain  with  the  doughty  Douglas, 

Sir  Hugh  Montgomery  ; 
Sir  Davy  Liddall,  that  worthy  was, 

His  sister's  son  was  he. 

Sir  Charles  o'  Murray  in  that  place 

That  never  a  foot  would  flee  ; 
Sir  Hugh  Maxwell,  a  lord  he  was, 

With  the  Douglas  did  he  dee. 

So  on  the  morrow  they  made  them  biers 

Of  birch  and  hazel  so  gray  ; 
Many  widows  with  weeping  tears 

Came  to  fetch  their  mates  away. 

Tivydale  may  carp  of  care 

Northumberland  may  make  great  moan, 
For  two  such  captains  as  slain  were  there, 

On  the  March-party  shail  never  be  none. 

Word  has  come  to  Edinborough 

To  Jamie  the  Scottish  king, 
That  doughty  Douglas,  lieutenant  of  the  Marches 

He  lay  slain  Cheviot  within. 

His  handes  did  he  weal  and  wring, 

He  said,  "  Alas  !   and  wo  is  me ! 
Such  an  other  captain   Scotland  within," 

He  said,  "  i'  faith  should  never  be." 


204  DOINGS   OF  THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

Word  is  come  to  lovely  London 
To  the  fourth  Harry  our  king, 

That  Lord  Percy,  lieutenant  of  the  Marches, 
He  lay  slain,  Cheviot  within. 

"  God  have  mercy  on  his  soul,"  said  King  Harry, 
"  Good  Lord  if  thy  will  it  be  ! 
I  have  a  hundred  captains  in  England,"  he  said, 
"  As  good  as  ever  was  he. 
But  Percy,  as  I  brook  my  life, 
Thy  death  well  quit  shall  be." 

•          As  cur  noble  king  made  his  avow, 

Like  a  noble  prince  of  renown, 
For  the  death  of  the  Lord  Percy 
He  did  the  battle  of  Homildown; 

Where  six  and  thirty  Scottish  knights 
On  a  day  were  beaten  down  ; 

Glendale  glittered  on  their  armor  bright, 
Over  castle,  tower  and  town. 

This  was  the  Hunting  of  the  Cheviot 

That  tear  began  this  spurn  : 
Old  men  that  know  the   ground  weel  enow 

Call  it  the  battle  of  Otterbourn. 

At  Otterbourn  began  this  spurn 

Upon  a  Monanday  ; 
There  was  the  doughty  Douglas  slain, 

The  Percy  never  went  away. 

There  was  never  a  time  on  the  March  parties 
Since  the  Douglas  and  Percy  met, 


NATHAN'S  PIG.  205 

But  it  was  marvel,  and  the  red  blood  ran  not 
As  tha  rain  does  in  the  street. 

And  now  may  Heaven  amend  us  all 

And  to  the  bliss  us  bring. 
Thus  was  the  Hunting  of  the  Cheviot. 
God  send  us  all  good  ending. 

Just  as  the  ballad  was  ended  Nep  set  up  .a  prodigious  howl.  No- 
body could  discover  what  it  was  for,  but  they  all  agreed  that  he 
must  have  listened  to  the  story  and  so  given  vent  to  his  feelings. 

"  It  was  a  great  battle,"  said  Nathan,  sagely. 

"  The  English  got  the  best  of  it,"  said  Phippy. 

"  Yes,"  said  her  father,  "  the  ballad  was  written  I  suppose  by  an 
Englishman,  but  he  was  a  generous  man  for  all  that,  as  Lord  Percy 
was  generous.  He  could  n't  help  letting  the  English  get  the  better 
of  the  Scotch,  but  he  made  the  Scotch  out  to  be  very  brave.  What 
do  you  think,  Lucy  ?  " 

"'Alas!  and  wo  is  me,'"  said  little  Lucy,  whereupon  they  all 
laughed  merrily,  for  they  knew  Lucy  did  not  like  dreadful  stories, 
but  this  happened  so  long  ago  that  she  could  listen  without  feeling 
very  badly. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 
NATHAN'S  PIG. 

THE  roses  on  the  pig-pen  fence  had  all  dropped  their  leaves,  but 
the  pig  behind  grew  more  rosy  and  fat  as  the  autumn  came  on. 
Nathan  never  forgot  to  feed  him  now  :  on  the  contrary,  he  seemed 
always  to  be  feeding  him.  As  soon  as  he  was  up  in  the  morning, 


206  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

he  was  bound  for  the  pig-sty,  hurrying  along  with  the  pig's  break- 
fast, as  if  the  poor  animal  had  been  living  all  night  on  half  rations; 
and  as  soon  as  school  was  over,  Nathan  was  again  on  hand  with  corn 
husks,  and  apples,  and  pea-pods,  or  whatever  other  dainty  he  could 
find.  He  would  stuff  them  into  the  trough,  and  then  stand,  with 
his  hands  behind  his  back,  and  watch  the  pig  with  a  serious  air,  and 
wonder  and  wonder  how  many  pounds  he  would  weigh,  and  how 
soon  he  would  be  fat  enough  to  kill,  and  how  many  cents  a  pound 
he  should  get,  and  what  he  should  do  with  the  money. 

The  pig  was  Nathan's  own.  He  had  bought  him  with  his  own 
money.  Martin  had  brought  him  home  from  Cam  ton  market,  and 
after  being  duly  invited  into  roomy  quarters,  which  the  last  occu- 
pant had  left,  never  to  re-enter,  at  least  not  in  his  old  shape,  Nathan 
watched  his  career  through  the  summer  with  increasing  interest,  as 
the  days  grew  shorter,  and  the  pig's  chin  grew  longer 

The  pig's  extra  fare  was  apples,  —  good,  wormy  apples ;  worms 
in  apples  are  spice  to  a  pig,  and  with  these  he  was  kept  well  sup- 
plied by  his  little  master.  Moreover,  Nathan  had  the  pleasure  of 
making  the  apples  turn -an  honest  penny  on  their  way  to  the  pig. 
Some  trees  in  the  orchard  shed  a  good  many  apples  that  were  not 
ripe,  and  were,  moreover,  a  sourish,  hard  apple.;  these  fell  on  the 
ground,  and  were  regarded  by  the  worms  and  ants  as  food  sent 
down  from  the  .sky  for  their  special  benefit.  So  they  went  hard  to 
work,  thousands  of  them,  and  had  a  busy  time  harvesting.  But  one 
day,  Mr.  Bodley,  walking  through  tha  orchard  with  Nathan,  saw  the 
apples  spread  over  the  ground,  and  said,  —  "  Nathan,  I  don't  like  to 
see  these  apples  here.  Now,  I  will  give  you  five  cents  a  bushel  for 
all  you  will  gather."  •• 

"  But  what  shall  I  do  with  the  apples  ?  " 


NATHAN'S  PIG.  207 

"  Oh,  give  them  to  the  pig." 

"  Why,  so  I  can,"  said  Nathan  ;  and  in  five  minutes  he  was  there 
with  a  wheelbarrow,  and  Phippy  and  Lucy  were  helping  him  load, 
though  indeed  the  little  girls  were  so  particular  as  to  what  apples 
they  touched,  that  I  don't  think  they  helped  very  much ;  and  not 
even  the  one  cent  a  bushel  which  Nathan  promised  each,  could 
make  them  work  very  hard  at  picking  up  small,  worm-eaten  apples. 

At  first  Nathan  used  to  tip  the  apples  into  the  pig-pen,  and  let  the 
pig  nose  them  over,  and  find  the  wormiest ;  but  a  good  many  were 
wasted  in  that  way;  and  one  day,  as  he  stood  watching  the  pig, 
after  having  carted  three  wheelbarrowfuls,  a  sudden  thought  struck 
him. 

"  Hi !  "  said  he  ;  and  snatching  up  the  wheelbarrow,  he  raced  off* 
to  the  house,  where  his  mother  was  churning. 

"  Mother !  "  he  cried.  "  Mother  !  I  've  got  a  splendid  idea  about 
the  pig." 

"  Dear  me !  it  seems  to  me  you  have  enough  ideas  about  the  pig 
already.  What  is  it  ?  Do  you  want  a  looking-glass,  so  that  he  can 
enjoy  himself  as  much  as  you  enjoy  him  ?  " 

"  Now,  mother !  A  looking-glass !  why,  he  'd  break  it  all  to  smash. 
No.  I  '11  tell  you  what.  I  '11  boil  them.  I  '11  make  a  bonfire,  and 
take  the  big  kettle  and  boil  them,  and  make  the  pig  some  apple- 
sauce. May  I  ?  " 

"  Oh,  the  apples." 

"  Oh,  no.  I  '11  tell  you.  I  '11  take  the  boiler  where  you  boil  the 
clothes.  No  I  won't,  either.  I  '11  make  a  bonfire.  That  '11  be 
better." 

At  this  moment  Phippy  and  Lucy  came  by,  and  Nathan  told  them 
eagerly  what  his  plan  was. 


208  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

4 

"  But  I  'm  afraid  it  won't  do  for  you,"  he  said,  looking  solemn. 
"  You  '11  catch  fire.  I  saw  something  in  the  newspaper  the  other 
day  about  it." 

"  Oh,  pooh !  "  said  Phippy.  "  I  shan't  catch  fire.  I  '11  take  a 
long  stick  and  poke  it.  Oh,  it  '11  be  splendid  !  just  like  the  gypsies. 
We  '11  have  a  couple  of  fork  sticks,  —  you  know  how,  —  and  a  piece 
across,  and  a  pot-hook,  and  we  '11  take  our  dolls  and  play  they  are 
babies  we  've  stolen  ;  and  we  '11  tell  fortunes  "  — 

"  Well,  well,"  said  Mrs.  Bodley,  "  but  I  don't  know  about  letting 

you  "  — 

"  0  mother  !  "  cried  the  three  in  chorus. 

"  What  is  Martin  doing  ?  " 

"  He  is  out  in  the  barn,  chopping  hay." 

"  Well,  ask  him  to  come  here  a  minute." 

When  Martin  came,  Mrs.  Bodley  asked  him  if  he  would  help  the 
children  make  the  fire,  and  see  that  they  got  into  no  mischief;  and 
that  very  afternoon,  a  cool  September  day,  the  children  gathered 
some  brushwood  and  leaves,  and  Martin  helped  them  make  a  gypsy 
camp. 

"  I  tell  you  this  makes  me  think  of  the  time  I  used  to  have  when 
I  was  a  boy,"  said  Martin,  as  they  tumbled  the  apples  into  the  great 
kettle. 

"  Did  you  boil  apples  for  your  bear  ?  "  asked  Nathan,  who  had  a 
long  stick  and  was  stirring  the  apples. 

"  You  mean  the  bear  Hen  trapped  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Nathan,"  the  little  one." 

"No,  I  don't  know  as  we  ever  boiled  any  apples  for  him.  We 
used  to  give  him  blueberries  and  milk.  He  was  mighty  fond  of 
berries.  We  taught  him  to  dance  by  giving  him  berries." 


A    DANCE   FOR  A   SUPPER. 


NATHAN'S  PIG.  211 

"  Did  you  really  ?  "  asked  Phippy.     "  Were  they  hot  ?  " 

"  Hot  ?  no  ;  what  made  you  ask  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  thought  that  was  what  made  him  dance."  Martin  chuck- 
led. 

"  You  're  a  queer  one,  Phippy.  No,  we  used  to  give  him-  berries 
to  pay  him  for  dancing,  and  he  knew  just  as  well  what  they  were 
for  as  anything.  If  he  danced,  he  'd  have  berries ;  see  ?  We  used 
to  get  round  after  supper  and  put  him  on  his  kennel,  and  then  Hen, 
he  would  twitch  the  chain  and  whistle  to  him,  and  Sis,  she  'd  hold 
out  the  spoon  with  berries,  and  then  he  'd  dance." 

"  What  became  of  him  ?  "  asked  Phippy. 

"  Oh,  he  broke  his  chain  one  night  and  ran  off  into  the  woods.  I 
guess  he  liked  that  better." 

The  children  stewed  a  famous  mess  of  apples  and  whatever  other 
fruit  they  could  lay  hold  of,  and  stirred  it  and  stirred  it,  till  they 
were  hot  as  mustard,  and  then  marched  off  to  give  it  to  the  pig, 
piping  hot  as  it  was,  though  they  had  to  save  a  good  deal,  and  give 
it  cool  another  time  ;  but  it  was  put  into  the  trough,  and  the  pig 
ate  it  and  grunted  over  it,  as  if  he  were  complaining  because  he  had 
to  eat  his  apple-sauce  without  bread  and  butter,  or  roast  goose. 

Now,  one  day,  as  September  came  to  an  end,  Nathan  and  the 
other  children  were  very  much  surprised  at  seeing  their  father  walk 
up  the  avenue  as  early  as  one  o'clock.  He  never  used  to  come  be- 
fore half-past  five,  for  he  was  in  business  in  the  city,  and  could  not 
come  away  earlier.  They  ran  up  to  him  joyfully,  but  he  said  so 
little,  and  looked  so  grave,  that  they  were  a  little  frightened,  and 
held  back  ;  but  when  he  had  gone  into  the  house,  they  forgot  it,  and 
went  back  to  their  play.  Before  long,  however,  their  mother  came 
to  the  door  and  called  them  in.  They  remembered  then  how  their 


212  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

father  looked,  and  seeing  their  mother  also  looking  quiet,  they 
hardly  knew  what  to  say  or  do,  but  followed  shyly  into  the  parlor, 
where  Mr.  Bodley  was  walking  uneasily  up  and  down. 

Nathan,  being  the  oldest,  and  intending,  of  course,  to  be  a  man 
before  long,  spoke  up  very  solemnly,  — "  Papa,  is  Uncle  Daniel 
dead  ?  "  —  Uncle  Daniel  being  daily  expected,  though  never  having 
been  seen  by  the  children.  To  his  surprise,  Mr.  Bodley  stopped 
and  laughed,  and  then  checked  himself,  sat  down  on  the  sofa  by  his. 
wife,  and  called  the  children  to  him. 

"  No,  Thanny,"  said  he,  "  though  I  don't  wonder  you  asked  me. 
I  will  tell  you  a  little  what  the  trouble  is,  though  you  can't  under- 
stand it  all.  It  is  very  hard  for  merchants  to  get  along  now,  and  I 
have  lost  a  great  deal  of  money,  so  much,  that  I  have  been  obliged 
to  stop  business  for  a  time,  and  I  am  afraid  we  may  have  to  leave 
our  beautiful  home." 

The  children  were  too  much  surprised  to  cry.  Leave  Roseland ! 
why,  how  could  they  ?  they  had  n't  been  there  a  year. 

"  So  you  must  be  careful,"  said  Mrs.  Bodley,  "  and  not  tear  your 
clothes.  Now  run  out  again  and  play." 

"  Sarah  !  "  said  Mr.  Bodley,  when  they  were  gone,  bursting  into 
a  laugh,  "  what  could  you  mean  ?  The  poor  children  won't  see  any 
connection  between  my  suspension  and  their  clothes." 

"  Yes,  they  will.  They  will  think  about  it ;  and  if  they  don't 
understand,  they  will  ask  me.  What  you  want  of  them  is,  not  that 
they  should  cry  very  much,  or  expect  to  take  your  clerks'  places,  but 
to  show  their  affection  in  their  own  way,  and  learn  that  even  their 
little  helps." 

The  children  went  out,  looking  very  serious,  and  with  their  eyes 
considerably  larger  than  when  they  came  in. 


NATHAN'S  PIG.  213 

"  Nathan !  "  said  Phippy,  "  it  's  awful.  You  don't  know,  but  I 
read  about  it  in  a  story  the  other  clay.  Father  '11  have  to  go  to 
jail,  and  stay  till  he  's  paid  every  cent,  and  mother  '11  go  there  to 
see  him,  and  take  us,  and  we  're  so  small,  that  the  jailer  will  feel 
bad,  and  let  him  out.  We  '11  carry  him  bread  and  cake." 

"  He  does  n't  like  cake  :  he  never  eats  it,"  sobbed  Lucy,  who 
had  been  keeping  in  before. 

"  Never  mind,  Lucy,"  said  Phippy,  giving  up  her  notion  at  once. 
"  I  don't  much  believe  he  '11  have  to  go.  I  know  he  won't,  because 
this  happened  ever  so  long  ago,  in  another  country.  They  don't  do 
so  in  America.  I  know  what  I  'm  going  to  do.  Come  Lucy.  I  've 
got  a  secret ;  let's  go  into  the  orchard." 

"  Let  me  hear,  too,"  said  Nathan. 

"  No,  it's  a  girl's  secret." 

"  Well,  I  've  got  a  secret,  too.  I  Ve  been  thinking  about  some- 
thing." 

"  Will  you  tell  me  yours,  if  I  '11  tell  you  mine  ?  "  asked  Phippy, 
who  loved  other  people's  secrets  even  more  than  she  did  her  own. 

"  I  'm  going  to.  pick  up  apples,"  said  Nathan.  ^ 

"  Hoh  !  "  said  Philippa,  "  a  great  secret,  that !  "  but  Nathan  had 
already  started  for  his  wheelbarrow.  Two  little  heads  in  sugar- 
scoop  bonnets  were  soon  nodding  wisely  to  each  other,  as  Phippy 
and  Lucy  walked  off  toward  the  orchard. 

—  "  And  I  '11  make  lamplighters,"  were  Lucy's  last  words,  as  they 
got  out  of  hearing.  "  I  can  make  them  beautiful." 

Nathan  trundling   his  wheelbarrow  to   the  familiar  field,  moved 

~ 

rather  slowly.  His  busy  head  was  fuller  than  usual,  but  he  worked 
with  his  hands  even  harder,  and  looked  round  with  disappointment, 
as  he  saw  at  last  that  there  were  no  more  apples  to  pick  up.  He 


214 


DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 


watched  the  pig  crunch  the  cold,  hard  apples,  for  he  did  not  boil 
these,  and  then  he  walked  into  the  house  with  his  hands  behind  him, 
thinking,  and  counting  on  his  fingers. 

September   closed,  and    October   went   by,  and   it  was    drawing 
toward  Thanksgiving  time.     The  pumpkins  were  ripening  for  pies, 


and  one  night  Nathan  came  home  with  an  exciting  story  of  how  he 
had  seen  what  he  called  a  Which  in  the  field,  and  how  he  ran  away, 
and  the  Which  chased  him,  and  then  it  turned  out  to  be  a  boy  he 
knew  with  another  boy,  and  they  had  cut  a  Jack-o'-lantern  out  of 


NATHAN'S  PIG.  215 

a  pumpkin ;  so  nothing  must  do  but  Martin  must  make  a  Jack-o'- 
lantern  for  Nathan,  also,  and  he  had  a  fine  time  with  it,  chasing  Nep, 
who  barked  furiously.  Lucy  knew  what  it  was,  but  she  could  not 
help  being  a  little  frightened  herself.  Mr.  Bodley  had  not  yet  been 
obliged  to  leave  Roseland.  They  had  talked  it  over,  and  looked  at 
smaller  houses  near  by ;  but  as  he  owned  the  place,  and  could  not 
easily  find  any  one  to.  let  it  to,  he  determined  at  length  that  he 
could  live  there  more  economically  than  if  he  were  to  move.  Still 
he  spent  as  little  money  as  possible,  and  the  children  sometimes  had 
to  give  up  what  they  had  been  counting  on. 

"  If  Nathan  were  older,  I  think  I  should  try  to  do  without  Mar- 
tin," said  Mr.  Bodley. 

"  Try  me,"  said  Nathan,  eagerly ;  but  his  father  only  pulled  his 
ear,  and  laughed.  The  day  came  at  length  when  the  pig  was  to  be 
killed.  He  had  been  stuffed  so  long,  and  had  grown  so  fat,  that  he 
was  the  wonder  of  the  neighborhood,  and  every  one  was  guessing 
how  much  the  Bodleys'  pig  would  weigh.  Nathan  strutted  about 
very  grandly,  whenever  the  pig  was  talked  of,  and  yet  every  once 
in  a  while  he  would  look  uneasy,  and  become  very  sober.  He  fed 
him  most  assiduously  the  last  two  or  three  days  of  his  life,  and  was 
once  caught  carrying  out  stealthily  his  own  tumbler  of  milk,  for  he 
had  overhead  some  one  saying  that  there  was  nothing  so  fattening 
to  a  pig  as  good,  fresh  milk. 

"  I  don't  know  but  you  and  the  pig  will  change  places  some  day, 
Nathan,"  said  his  mother,  just  like  Picture  Bob  and  his  Wonderful 
Cob." 

"  What  was  that  ?  " 

"  Did  you  never  hear  ?  Did  I  never  tell  you  the  story  of  Picture 
Bob  and  his  Wonderful  Cob  ?  " 


216 


DOINGS  OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 


"  Why,  no,"  said  Nathan,  as  his  mother  looked  surprised. 

"  Then  I  must  tell  it  to  you  right  away,"  said  she.  "  Put  down 
your  tumbler  and  listen  to  my  serious  story."  And  all  the  children 
sat  very  still  as  their  mother  told  the  story  of 

PICTURE  BOB  AND  HIS  WONDERFUL  COB. 

Suppose  you  have 

A  picture  book, 
Turning  its  pages  o  'er, 

And  at  this  page 

Some  pictures  find, 
You  never  found  before. 


Suppose  it   tells  you 

Of  a  boy ; 
Suppose  his  name  was  Bob; 

Suppose  he  ate 

An  ear  of  corn, 
As  big  as  Picture  Cob. 


NATHAN'S  PIG. 

S'pose,  then,  that  Bob 
Had  said  to  Cob, 
"  Come,  stand  up,  if  you  can, 
And  wear  my  little 
Hat  and  coat, 
And  be  a  soldier-man." 


217 


S'pose,  then,  that  Cob 
Had  said  to  Bob, 
"  You  be  an  ear  of  corn, 
And  I  will  wear 
Your  hat  and  coat, 
And  toot  your  little  horn." 

Suppose   that  Cob 

Began  to  march, 
And  loud  the  horn  to  blow ; 

Suppose  that  Bob 

Went  fast  asleep, 
And  ear  of  corn  to  grow. 

Suppose  that  Cobby 
Grew  so  fine, 
And  Bobby  grew  so  fast, 


218 


DOINGS   OF   THE  BOD  LEY  F  AM  I  LI. 

That  Cobby  thought, 
"  He  ate  me  first, 
I'll  eat  him  up,  at  last." 


And  so,  suppose 
He  made  a  charge, 

As  if  a  field  of  corn  — 
Each  leaf  become 
A  two-edged  sword, 

Each  ear,  a  battle-horn  - 


NATHAN'S  PIG. 

And,  fierce  and  fast, 

Went  at  poor  Bob, 
Intent  to  pierce  him  through ; 

Suppose  that  Bobby 

Knew  all  this, 
But  knew  not  what  to  do. 

And  now  suppose 

That,  all  at  once, 

From  out  of  Bobby's  head 


219 


ft 


Our  flag  of  Stripes, 
Our  flag  of  Stars, 
Had  sprung  right  up,  and  said: 

"Take  care,  take  care, 

You  little  scamp ! 
You  're  nothing  but  a  cob, 


220 


DOINGS  OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

"With  soldier-clothes 
And  tooting  horn ; 
Touch  not   my  soldier  Bob!" 

Then  what  if  Cob, 

And  what  if  Bob, 
And  what  if  Flag,  and  all, 

Had  had  a  grand 

Engagement  there, 
The  country  to  appall. 

And  you,  suppose 

You  hasten  on, 
T*ae  dreadful  end  to  see, 

And  find  yourself 

A  little  Cob, 
To  think  such  things  could  be  ! 


"  Well,"  said  Nathan,  "  I  've  often  dreamed  about  my  pig,  but  1 
never  dreamed  I  was  pig,  and  pig  was  I." 

When  the  day  came  for  the  pig  to  be  killed,  Nathan  was  in  a 
tumult  of  excitement.  The  pig  was  to  be  killed  on  the  premises, 
and  not  sent  to  the  butcher's.  The  hot  water  was  all  ready  in  tubs,. 


NATHAN'S  PIG.  221 

and  Nathan  was  constantly  trying  it,  to  see  if  he  could  bear  his  hand 
in  it.  He  would  not  see  the  final  act,  though  he  heard  the  distant 
wail,  but  after  a  while  got  up  courage  to  go  out  to  the  barn  and 
see  the  bristles  taken  off,  and  all  the  rest  of  the  long  performance. 
Ehilippa  peeked  round  the  corner  once,  and  immediately  ran  away, 
and  Lucy  would  not  stir  out  of  the  house. 

"It's  awful,  Lucy,"  was  Phippy's  report.  "He's  stretched  out 
stiff,  as  if  he  was  gasping.  Don't  you  go  near  him." 

"  Well,  Nathan,"  said  his  father,  in  the  evening,  "  so  the  pig 's 
killed.  How  much  does  he  weigh  ?  " 

"  He  weighs  three  hundred  and  thirty-seven  pounds,  sir,"  said 
Nathan  proudly.  "  Martin  says  he  's  the  biggest  pig  round." 

"  How  big  round  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Bodley,  laughing  ;  but  Nathan 
said  he  had  not  measured." 

"  Let  me  see  :  how  much  is  pork  a  pound  ?  " 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Nathan,  hastily,  and  he  jumped  down  from 
his  father's  knee,  and  ran  out  of  the  room.  He  opened  the  door 
again,  and  put  his  head  in. 

"  Twenty-one  cents,  sir,"  he  said ;  and  off  he  went,  not  to  come 
back  till  tea  time. 

It  was  Thanksgiving  Day  shortly  after  this,  but  for  once  there 
was  no  one  at  the  Bodleys'  except  their  own  family.  Just  before 
dinner,  Nathan  slipped  into  the  dining-room  very  cautiously,  and 
was  out  again  in  a  moment,  and  then  he  began  tumbling  about  the 
room  where  the  rest  were,  playing  with  Nep,  the  dog,  and  making 
a  great  deal  of  noise,  every  once  in  a  while  eying  his  father  in  a 
half  frightened  manner.  They  went  in  to  dinner.  Nathan  went 
last,  and  then  rushed  past  them  all,  sat  down  in  his  chair,  and 
began  eating  his  bread  and  drinking  water  so  fast,  that  Mrs.  Bod- 
ley  discovered  him. 


222  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

"  Why,  Nathan  !  "  said  she.  "  What  a  very  hungry  little  boy.  I 
think  you  can  wait  till  the  blessing  is  asked." 

There  was  silence  while  Mr.  Bodley,  who  was  thinking  just  then 
of  how  even  his  losses  in  business  had  not  been  without  their  bless- 
ing, gave  thanks  to  God  for  all  His  benefits,  and  for  this  yearly 
festival.  Then  he  began  to  carve  the  turkey. 

"Hullo,  what's  this?"  said  he,  as  he  lifted  the  plate  before  him, 
and  discovered  an  envelope.  At  this  moment,  Nathan,  who  had 
been  very  red  in  the  face,  burst  into  tears,  and  cried,  —  "  The  pig  \ 
the  pig !  "  and  rushed  hotly  out  of  the  room.  Mr.  Bodley  opened 
the  envelope.  It  had  a  letter  in  it ;  and  as  he  read  it  aloud,  he  had 
to  —  yes,  he  had  to  blow  his  nose  once  or  twice,  and  clear  his  voice* 
This  was  what  he  read  :  — 

"  DEAR  FATHER,  —  The  pig  is  yours.  You  said  you  would  buy 
him  of  me,  but  you  suspended,  and  I  want  you  to  have  the  pig  I 
am  a  little  boy,  and  I  can't  do  much.  I  wish  you  would  let  me  be 
man  instead  of  Martin.  The  pig  weighs  337  pounds.  I  hope  you 
won't  have  to  leave  Roseland. 

"  Your  affectionate  son, 

"  NATHAN  BODLEY." 

"  Where  is  Nathan  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Bodley.     "  Call  him,  Phippy." 
"  He  's  behind  the  door,  he  won't  come  in.      He  's  crying  like 
everything,"  said  the  little  messenger. 

Mr.  Bodley  got  up  from  the  table,  and  with  his  wife  went  out  to 
Nathan,  who  had  done  crying  now,  and  began  to  laugh  when  his 
father  kissed  him,  and  passed  his  hand  through  his  hair,  and  brought 
him  back  into  the  dining-room.  It  was  a  merry  dinner  that  they 
had  then,  and  a  happy  family  that  they  were  in  the  evening,  as 


CHRISTMAS  HOLIDAYS.  223 

they  sat  round  the  fire,  playing  games  and  telling  stories.  I  dare 
say  the  father  and  mother  had  many  thanks  to  give  that  night  when 
they  went  to  bed  —  thanks  that  God  was  teaching  their  little  boy 
so  early,  that  it  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

CHRISTMAS    HOLIDAYS. 

FROM  Thanksgiving  to  Christmas  is  not  a  great  distance,  but  it  is 
very  apt  to  be  full  of  pleasant  doings.  We  eat  our  Thanksgiving 
dinner  and  step  out  plump  nnd  comfortable,  ready  for  the  cold  and 
the  frolic,  and  the  merry  times  that  lie  before  us  in  the  dark  month 
of  December.  To  the  Bodley  children  it  was  a  new  thing  to  be  out 
of  town  in  the  winter  time.  They  were  not  so  far  from  the  city  but 
they  sometimes  went  in  to  see  their  friends,  or  to  go  to  the  shops 
and  entertainments,  but  after  all  they  liked  best  their  sport  out  of 
doors  on  their  own  place.  There  they  could  frolic  to  their  heart's 
content.  They  all  had  their  sleds,  and  one  night  even,  their  father 
took  them  all  to  May's  pond  after  supper  and  let  them  slide  on  the 
ice  a  little  while,  and  watch  the  skaters  by  moonlight.  Martin  was 
there  with  his  hockey-stick,  and  once  he  gathered  all  the  ropes  of 
the  children's  sleds  into  his  hand,  and  away  he  spun  down  the  pond, 
dragging  them  after  him. 

But  the  best  fun  they  had  once  when  there  had  been  an  unusual 
thaw,  with  a  freezing  time  afterward  which  left  a  hard,  icy  crust  upon 
the  snow.  Martin  took  the  body  of  an  old  sleigh,  which  was  coming 
to  pieces,  removed  the  shafts  and  the  side-pieces,  and  so  made  a  gi- 


224 


DOINGS   OF   THE  RODLEY  FAMILY. 


gantic  sled,  upon  whioh  they  had  famous  times  coasting  down  the 
slope  of  the  Hollow.  It  almost  took  their  breath  away,  as  Martin 
steered  the  great  sled  and  brought  it  with  a  sweep  alongside  the 
fence  by  the  pasture.  Their  mother  used  to  coast  with  them,  but 
Mr.  Bodley  had  gone  off  on  a  journey.  As  Christmas  drew  near  the 
children  began  to  be  very  much  afraid  that  he  would  not  be  back  in 


Moonlight  on  the    Pond. 

time  to  enjoy  it  with  them,  and  even  Mrs.  Bodley  became  a  little 
worried,  for  she  was  daily  expecting  him.  Snow  had  been  falling 
without  interruption  for  three  days,  and  the  roads  all  about  Rose- 
land  were  blocked  with  snow.  Ox-teams  drove  along  by  the  side 
to  clear  a  passage  for  foot  travelers,  and  as  the  sun  gradually  came 
out  of  the  clouds,  the  glittering  snow,  and  the  jingling  sleigh-bells 


CHRISTMAS  HOLIDAYS.  225 

made  the  children  wild  with  delight.  They  had  with  them  Cousin 
Ned,  who  was  making  them  a  visit,  and  he  was  a  strong  young  fel- 
low, so  that  they  had  grand  fun  upon  their  sleds.  Skating  was  over 
for  the  present,  for  the  pond  was  covered  with  snow ;  but  they  wore 
a  coast  into  the  Hollow,  and  as  there  were  no  lessons  and  no  school,, 
the  children  were  coasting  pretty  much  all  the  time. 

It  was  the  day  before  Christmas,  and  still  Mr.  Bodley  had  not 
come.  The  newspapers  were  full  of  the  great  storm,  and  how  it 
had  blocked  the  railroads,  and  made  it  impossible  for  people  to  get 
about.  Mrs.  Bodley  read  some  of  the  accounts  aloud,  and  the  chil- 
dren grew  very  much  excited. 

"  I  suppose  papa  is  buried  in  a  snow-drift,"  said  Phippy.  "  If 
Nep  was  only  near  he  would  go  out  with  a  bottle  round  his  neck 
and  find  him." 

"  Will  he  have  to  live  on  roots  and  berries,  mama  ? "  asked 
Lucy,  looking  serious. 

"  Berry  pie  is  n't  bad,"  said  Cousin  Ned.  "  Berry  pie  and  snow- 
sauce,"  and  he  smacked  his  lips.  "  I  wish  I  was  with  Uncle  Charles, 
eating  berry  pie  and  snow-sauce." 

"  Well,  any  way,  he  '11  keep  warm,"  said  Nathan,  "  because 
there  's  the  engine,  —  that 's  very  hot." 

"  Yes,"  said  Cousin  Ned,  "  and  only  think  what  good  hot  shaving 
water  he  will  have." 

"  I  just  wish  he  was  here  now,"  said  Nathan,  "  shaving,  and  tell- 
ing me  a  ballad."  Scarcely  had  Nathan  said  this,  before  there  was 
a  ring  at  the  door.  The  children  rushed  out  into  the  entry,  just  in 
time  to  see  their  father  come  in,  with  his  bag  and  ever  so  many 
bundles,  just  as  if  he  had  only  come  from  town.  Then  there  was  a 
hurrah  and  a  scrambling,  and  Mr,  Bodley  staggered  up-stairs  to 

15 


226 


DOINGS   OF    THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 


dress,  with  one  little  girl  on  each  shoulder,  and  Nathan  about  his 
neck.  Mrs.  Bodley  and  Cousin  Ned  took  the  opportunity  to  smuggle 
the  mysterious  parcels  out  of  the  way. 

When  Mr.  Bodley  came  down-stairs,  tea  was  ready,  and  he  had 

to  tell  all  his  advent- 
ures, and  why  he  was 
so  long  coming  home. 
He  had  been  delayed 
by  the  storm,  because 
the  trains  could  not 
get  through,  and  in 
one  case  the  engine 
on  his  own  train  had 
broken  down. 

"  I  waited  a  good 
while,"  he  said,  "  aft- 
er the  train  stopped, 
before  I  got  out  to 
see  what  was  the  mat- 
ter. It  was  snowing 
hard,  and  men  with 
shovels  had  been 
shoveling  the  snow 
away  from  about  the 
wheels.  I  could  see 
a  man  with  a  lantern 
poking  about  under  the  engine,  and  hear  the  ringing  of  a  hammer 
upon  the  iron.  The  engine  had  met  with  some  accident,  which  made 
it  impossible  for  it  to  drag  the  train.,  and  there  we  waited  all  night, 


Tired  out. 


CHRISTMAS  HOLIDAYS.  227 

until  men  could  make  their  way  to  the  next  town  and  bring  back  a 
new  locomotive.  We  found  wood  near  by  and  kept  the  fires  burn- 
ing in  the  stoves,  but  we  were  very  hungry.  There  was  no  house 
near  by,  but  finally  somebody  discovered  a  keg  of  oysters  in  the  bag- 
gage car,  and  somehow  or  other  those  oysters  got  cooked,  and  we 
had  some  oyster  stews  in  tumblers  and  cups,  and  anything  we  could 
lay  hold  of." 

The  children  lay  down  that  night  very  happy  that  their  father 
had  come  home  safely,  and  very  full  of  expectation  of  the  morrow. 
They  were  awake  by  day-break  Christmas  morning.  Lucy  and 
Phippy  slept  sidef  by  side,  in  two  little  beds,  and  Phippy  was  the 
first  to  wake. 

"  Lucy,"  said  she,  pulling  her  sister's  arm,  "  Merry  Christmas ! 
hush,  don't  you  speak.  Let 's  look  in  our  stockings.  I  suppose 
papa  came  home  too  late  to  get  anything.  I  feel  something  square 
and  hard.  I  guess  it 's  a  book." 

"I  can't  see  what  this  is,"  said  Lucy,  who  was  busy  on  her  side. 
"  There  's  candy,  I  know,  but  here  's  something  else ;  it  feels  like  a 
book,  but  not  exactly.  I  think  it  must  be  a  drawing-book." 

"  Phippy  !  Lucy  !  a  Merry  Christmas  !  "  came  in  a  loud  whisper, 
and  Nathan  came  running  acrosj  the  floor  in  his  night-gown.  "  See  ! 
a  pair  of  skates  !  "  and  he  had  darted  off  again. 

"  I  say !  " 

"  Who  was  that,  Phippy,"  asked  Lucy. 

"  I  say  !  "  The  voice  came  in  a  tremendous  whisper.  Then 
Cousin  Ned  popped  his  head  in  at  the  door.  "  Merry  Christmas !  " 
said  he,  and  was  off  again.  Phippy  and  Lucy  jumped  up  and  ran 
into  their  father  and  mother's  room.  They  found  them  fast  asleep. 

"  Don't  let 's  disturb  them,"  said  Phippy  in  a  very  loud  whisper. 

"No, I  would  n't,"  said  Lucy.    "  I  'd  just  kiss  them,  and  wish  them 


228  DOINGS  OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

Merry  Christmas."  But,  as  in  the  story  of  the  Sleeping  Princess, 
no  sooner  had  the  kisses  been  given,  ever  so  lightly,  than  the  lit- 
tle rogues  were  held  fast,  and  there  was  no  more  sleep  for  any  one 
in  the  house  after  that. 

The  presents  were  all  carried  down-stairs  and  spread  on  the  break- 
fast table,  and  Cousin  Ned  asked  Nathan  if  he  would  give  him  a  slice 
of  broiled  skates,  and  Lucy  came  every  little  while  to  Cousin  Ned 
and  sat  by  him  and  held  his  hand,  for  she  had  found  out  what  was 
in  her  stocking,  and  that  he  had  put  it  there.  It  was  a  little  story, 
which  he  had  written  all  himself  for  his  little  cousin,  and  had  made 
a  red  border  round  each  page,  and  put  a  cover  on  the  book,  and 
tied  it  with  blue  ribbons,  so  that  it  was  almost  like  a  real  book,  Lucy 
said,  but  prettier. 

Phippy's  book  was  a  book  of  ballads,  and  in  it  she  found  the 
Hunting  of  the  Cheviot,  and  a  good  many  others  of  which  she  had 
never  heard.  As  soon  as  breakfast  was  over  she  had  sat  right  down 
in  her  little  chair  and  begun  to  read  one  of  them,  and  while  she  is 
reading  it,  we  will  just  peep  over  her  shoulder  and  read  with  her. 


THE  BALLAD  OF  THE  HEIR  OF  LINNE. 


Lithe  and  listen,  gentlemen, 
To  sing  a  song  I  will  began  ; 

It  is  of  a  lord  of  fair  Scotland, 

Which  was  the  unthrifty  heir  of  Linne. 

His  father  was  a  right  good  lord, 
His  mother  a  lady  of  high  degree ; 

But  they,  alas  !  were  dead  him  frae, 
And  he  loved  keeping  companie. 


CHRISTMAS  HOLIDAYS.  229 

To  spend  the  day  with  merry  cheer, 

To  drink  and  revel  every  night, 
To  card  and  dice  from  eve.  to  morn, 

It  was,  I  ween,  his  heart's  delight. 

To  ride,  to  run,  to  rant,  to  roar, 

To  always  spend  and  never  spare  ; 
I  wot,  an'  it  were  the  king  himself 

Of  gold  and  fee  he  mote  be  bare. 

So  fares  the  unthrifty  Lord  of  Linne 

Till  all  his  gold  is  gone  and  spent ; 
And  he  maun  sell  his  lands  so  broad, 

His  house,  and  lauds,  and  all  his  rent. 

His  father  had  a  keen  steward, 

And  John  o'  the  Scales  was  called  he; 
But  John  is  become  a  gentel-man, 

And  John  has  got  both  gold  and  fee. 

Says,  "  Welcome,  welcome,  Lord  of  Linne, 

Let  nought  disturb  thy  merry  cheer ; 
If  thou  wilt  sell  thy  lands  so  broad, 

Good  store  of  gold  I  '11  give  thee  here." 

"My  gold  is  gone,  my  money  is  spent; 

My  land  now  take  it  unto  thee: 
Give  me  thy  gold,  good  John  o'  the  Scales, 
And  thine  for  aye  my  land  shall  be." 

Then  John  he  did  him  to  record  draw, 

And  John  he  cast  him  a  gods-pennie  ; l 
But  for  every  pound  that  John  agreed, 

The  land,  I  wis,  was  well  worth  three. 
1  Gods-pennie,  earnest  money,  i.  e.  part  of  the  price  paid  in  advance  to  bind  the  contract. 


230 


DOINGS  OF  THE  BODLEY  FAMILY, 

He  told  him  the  gold  upon  the  board, 
He  was  right  glad  his  laud  to  win ; 

The  gold  is  thine,  the  land  is  mine, 
And  now  I  '11  be  the  Lord  of  Linne." 


Thus  he  hath  sold  his  land  so  broad, 
Both  hill  and  holt,  and  moor  and  fen, 

All  but  a  poor  and  lonesome  lodge, 
That  stood  far  off  in  a  lonely  glen. 

For  so  he  to  his  father  hight:1 
"  My  son,  when  I  am  gone,"  said  he, 
"Then  thou  wilt  spend  thy  land  so  broad, 
And  thou  wilt  spend  thy  gold  so  free. 
1  Hiyht,  promised. 


CHRISTMAS   HOLIDAYS.  231 

"  But  swear  me  now  upon  the  rood,1 

That  lonesome  lodge  thou  'It  never  spend ; 
For  when  all  the  world  doth  frowfi  on  thee, 
Thou  there  shalt  find  a  faithful  friend." 

The  heir  of  Linne  is  full  of  gold : 
"And  come  with  me,  my  friends,"  said  he, 
"  Let 's  drink,  and  rant,  and  merry  make, 

And  he  that  spares,  ne'er  mote  he  thee."  2 

They  ranted,  drank,  and  merry  made, 

Till  all  his  gold  it  waxed  thin  ; 
And  then  his  friends  they  slunk  away  ; 

They  left  the  unthrifty  heir  of  Linne.. 

He  had  never  a  penny  left  in  his  purse, 

Never  a  penny  left  but  three, 
And  one  was  brass,  another  was  lead, 

And  another  it  was  white  money. 

'Now  well-a-day,"  said  the  heir  of  Linne, 
"  Now  well-a-day,  and  woe  is  me, 
For  when  I  was  the  Lord  of  Linne, 
I  never  wanted  gold  nor  fee. 

"  But  many  a  trusty  friend  have  I, 

And  why  should  I  feel  dole  or  care  ? 
I  '11  borrow  of  them  all  by  turns, 
So  need  I  not  be  never  bare." 

But  one,  I  wis,  was  not  at  home  ; 

Another  had  paid  his  gold  away; 
Another  called  him  thriftless  loon, 

And  bade  him  sharply  wend  his  way. 
1  Rood,  cross.  2  Thee,  thrive. 


232  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

"  Now  well-a-day,"  said  the  heir  of  Linne, 
"  Now  well-a-day  and  woe  is  me ; 
For  when  I  had  my  lauds  so  broad, 
On  me  they  lived  right  merrilee. 

"  To  beg  my  bread  from  door  to  door, 
I  wis,  it  were  a  brenning  J  shame  ; 
To  rob  and  steal  it  were  a  sin  ; 

To  work,  my  limbs  I  cannot  frame. 

"  Now  I  '11  away  to  the  lonesome  lodge, 
For  there  my  father  bade  me  wend : 
When  all  the  world  should  frown  on  me, 
I  there  should  find  a  trusty  friend." 

n. 

Away  then  hied  the  heir  of  Liune, 

O'er  hill  and  holt,  and  moor  and  fen, 
Until  he  came  to  the  lonesome  lod^e 

O 

That  stood  so  low  in  a  lonely  glen. 
He  looked  up,  he  looked  down, 

^ 

In  hope  some  comfort  for  to  win  ; 
But  bare  and  lothly  were  the  walls  : 
"  Here  's  sorry  cheer,"  quo'  the  heir  of  Linne. 

The  little  window,  dim  and  dark, 

Was  hung  with  ivy,  brere,  and  yew  ; 

No  shimmering  sun  here  ever  shone, 
No  halesome  breeze  here  ever  blew. 

No  chair,  ne  table,  he  mote  spy, 

No  cheerful  hearth,  ne  welcome  bed  ; 
1  Brenning,  burning. 


CHRISTMAS  HOLIDAYS, 

Nought  save  a  rope  with  renning  noose, 
That  dangling  hung  up  o'er  his  head. 

And  over  it  in  broad  letters, 

These  words  were  written  so  plain  to  «ee : 
"  Ah  !  graceless  wretch,  hast  spent  thine  all, 
And  brought  thyself  to  penurie  ? 


233 


"  All  this  my  boding  mind  misgave, 

I  therefore  left  this  trusty  friend  ; 
Let  it  now  shield  thy  foul  disgrace, 
And  all  thy  shame  and  sorrows  end.' 

Sorely  shent l  wi'  this  rebuke, 

Sorely  shent  was  the  heir  of  Linne  ; 
1  Shent,  shamed. 


234  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

His  heart,  I  wis,  was  near  to-brast 

With  guilt  and  sorrow,  shame  and  sin. 

Never  a  word  spake  the  heir  of  Linne, 

Never  a  word  spake  he  but  three ; 
"  This  is  a  trusty  friend  indeed, 
And  is  right  welcome  unto  me." 

Then  round  his  neck  the  cord  he  drew, 
And  sprang  aloft  with  his  bodie, 

When  lo  !  the  ceiling  burst  in  twain. 
And  to  the  ground  came  tumbling  he. 

Astonyed  lay  the  heir  of  Linne, 
Ne  knew  if  he  were  live  or  dead  ; 

At  length  he  looked,  and  saw  a  bill, 
And  in  it  a  key  of  gold  so  red. 

He  took  the  bill,  and  lookt  it  on, 
Strait  good  comfort  found  he  there  : 

It  told  him  of  a  hole  in  the  wall, 

In  which  there  stood  three  chests  in-fere.1 

Two  were  full  of  the  beaten  gold, 
The  third  was  full  of  white  moi.ey  ; 

And  over  them  in  broad  letters 

These  words  were  written  so  plain  to  see 

"  Once  more,  my  son,  I  set  thee  clear ; 

Amend  thy  life  and  follies  past ; 
For  but  thou  amend  thee  of  thy  life, 
That  rope  must  be  thy  end  at  last" 

1  In-fere,  together. 


CHRISTMAS  HOLIDAYS.  235 

"  And  let  it  be,"  said  the  heir  of  Linne, 
"  And  let  it  be,  but  if  I  amend : 
For  here  I  will  make  mine  avow, 

This  reade  *  shall  guide  me  to  the  end.'* 

M 

Away  then  went  with  a  merry  cheer, 

Away  then  went  the  heir  of  Linne ; 
I  wis,  he  neither  ceased  ne  blanne,2 

Till  John  o'  the  Scales'  house  he  did  win. 

And  when  he  came  to  John  o'  the  Scales, 

Up  at  the  speer  then  looked  he  ; 
There  sat  three  lords  upon  a  row, 

Were  drinking  of  the  wine  so  free. 

And  John  himself  sat  at  the  board-head, 
Because  now  Lord  of  Linne  was  he ; 
"  I  pray  thee,"  he  said,  "  good  John  o'  the  Scales, 
One  forty  pence  for  to  lend  me." 

"  Away,  away,  thou  thriftless  loon ; 
Away,  away,  this  may  not  be ; 
For  a  curse  on  my  head,"  he  said, 
"  If  ever  I  trust  thee  one  peunie." 

Then  bespake  the  heir  of  Linne, 

To  John  o'  the  Scales'  wife  then  spake  he: 
"  Madame,  some  alms  on  me  bestow, 
I  pray  for  sweet  Saint  Charitie." 

"  Away,  away,  thou  thriftless  loon  ; 

I  swear  thou  gettest  no  alms  of  me ; 
For  if  we  should  hang  any  losel  here, 

The  first  we  would  begin  with  thee." 
1  Reade,  advice.  a  Blanne,  stopped. 


236 


DOINGS   OF  THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

Then  bespake  a  good  fellow, 

Which  sat  at  John  o'  the  -Scales  his  board  ; 
Said,  "  Turn  again,  thou  heir  of  Linne  ; 

Some  time  thou  wast  a  well  good  lord. 


"  Some  time  a  good  fellow  thou  hast  been, 

And  sparedst  not  thy  gold  and  fee ; 
Therefore  I  '11  lend  thee  forty  pence, 
And  other  forty  if  need  be. 

"  And  ever  I  pray  thee,  John  o'  the  Scales, 

To  let  him  sit  in  thy  companie ; 
For  well  I  wot  thou  hadst  his  land, 
And  a  good  bargain  it  was  to  thee." 


CHRISTMAS  HOLIDAYS.  237 

Up  then  spake  him  John  o'  the  Scales, 

All  wood  l  he  answered  him  again : 
"Now  a  curse  on  my  head,"  he  said, 
"  But  I  did  lose  by  that  bargain. 

"  And  here  I  proffer  thee,  heir  of  Linne, 

Before  these  lords  so  fair  and  free, 
Thou  shalt  have  it  back  again  better  cheap 
By  a  hundred  marks  than  I  had  it  of  thee. 

"  I  draw  you  to  record,  lords,"  he  said  ; 

With  that  he  cast  him  a  gods-pennie  : 
"No^  by  my  fay,"  said  the  heir  of  Linue, 
"And  here,  good  John,  is  thy  money." 

And  he  pulled  forth  three  bags  of  gold, 

And  laid  them  down  upon  the  board ; 
All  woe  begone  was  John  o'  the  Scales, 

So  shent  he  could  say  never  a  word. 

He  told  him  forth  the  good  red  gold, 
He  told  it  forth  with  mickle  din  ; 
"  The  gold  is  thine,  the  land  is  mine, 

And  now  I'm  again  the  Lord  of  Linne." 

Says,  "  Have  thou  here,  thou  good  fellow, 

Forty  pence  thou  didst  lend  me : 
Now  I  am  again  the  Lord  of  Linne, 

And  forty  pounds  I  will  give  thee. 

0 

"  I  '11  make  thee  keeper  of  my  forest, 

Both  of  the  wild  deer  and  the  tame ; 
For  but  I  reward  thy  bounteous  heart, 
I  wis,  good  fellow,  I  were  to  blame." 
1    Wood,  frantic. 


238  DOINGS   OF   THE  BOD  LEY  FAMILY, 

"  Now  well-a-day ! "   saith  Joan  o'  the  Scales  ; 
"  Now  well-a-day,  and  woe  is  my  life ! 
Yesterday  I  was  Lady  of  Linne, 

Now  I  'm  but  John  o'  the  Scales  his  wife." 

"  Now  fare  thee  well,"  said  the  heir  of  Linne, 

"  Farewell  now,  John  o'  the  Scales,"  said  he  : 
"  A  curse  light  on  me,  if  ever  again 
I  bring  ray  lands  in  jeopardy." 

The  time  has  come  when  I  must  say  good-by  to  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Bodley,  and  Nathan,  and  Phippy,  and  Lucy,  and  Martin,  and  Cousin 
Ned,  and  Nep,  and  Mr.  Bottom,  and  the  Jersey  cow,  and  the  hens 
and  chickens.  The  pig  has  already  had  an  affectionate  farewell.  It 
would  not  be  hard  to  tell  of  the  little  things  that  happened  to  this 
happy  family,  year  after  year,  but  there  are  so  many  books  to  be 
read  that  it  would  hardly  do  to  keep  people  busy  reading  always 
about  the  Bodley  Family.  You  may  be  sure  that  they  were  happy, 
for  they  had  a  home  where  each  thought  of  the  others,  and  was  not. 
all  the  while  thinking  of  himself.  The  children  learned  that  of  their 
father  and  mother,  and  their  father  and  mother  learned  it  of  God. 
I  do  not  like  to  go  away  from  them.  Let  us  rather  pretend  that 
we  are  staying  in  the  house,  and  they  have  said  good-by  to  us,  and 
have  gone  off  in  a  great  sleigh,  covered  up  with  buffalo  robes,  while 
Martin,  well  wrapped  in  furs  which  were  his  Christmas  present, 
stands  in  the  front  of  the  sleigh  and  drives  four  horses.  Off  they 
go,  and  we  who  want  to  linger  behind,  can  take  up  the  little  book 
that  Cousin  Ned  gave  to  Lucy  Bodley,  and  read  the  story  he  wrote 
for  her  —  the  story  of  Two  CHRISTMAS  GIFTS. 


/ 


TWO   CHRISTMAS   GIFTS. 


241 


CHAPTER  XV. 

TWO    CHRISTMAS    GIFTS. 

HERE  is  a  little  point  of 
land  on  Cape  Cod  that  vent- 
ures timidly  out  into  the 
ocean ;  a  bay  is  partly 
formed  by  it,  and  is  shel- 
tered by  a  breakwater  built 
a  mile  out  from  the  shore. 
The  breakwater  protects 
Scupper's  Point  a  little  also, 
but  the  sea,  when  it  has  a 
mind  to,  knocks  up  against 
the  rough  edge  of  the  Point, 
though  its  more  usual  way 
has  been  these  many  years 
to  come  up  silently,  night 
and  day,  and  with  its 
watery  tongue  lick  off  a 

mouthful  of  sand  and  turf.     Nobody  misses  the  one  mouthful ;  but 

by  and  by,  when  old  people  come  back  to  the  Point,  they  look  about 

in  vain  for  certain  landmarks. 

"  Why,  where  is  the  little  wharf  gone  ?  " 

"  Oh,  that  was  washed  away  long  ago !     See,  those  stones  out 

yonder  are  where  the  piers  were." 

"  Here  is  the  spot  where  the  old  house  stood,  from  which  gran'- 

16 


242  DOINGS  OF  THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

ther  moved  away.  I  know  the  place  by  the  hollow  that  marks  the 
cellar.  How  the  bank  has  crumbled  away  back  of  it." 

Yes,  the  sea  is  never  satisfied.  Every  day,  every  twelve  hours, 
it  washes  up,  wave  by  wave,  to  the  old  shore ;  and  while  the  people 
are  busy,  or  away,  it  steals  a  bit,  and  flows  back.  It  would  make 
no  difference  were  people  to  watch  their  rough  possession  ;  still  the 
sea  would  make  its  way  to  the  shore. 

In  the  little  bay  one  might  usually  see  some  few  vessels  at  an- 
chor ;  very  likely  a  coasting  schooner,  creeping  along,  and  glad  of  a 
snug  shelter  behind  the  breakwater ;  or  one  of  Captain  Gage's 
sloops  that  did  a  tight  little  business  between  the  Point  and  New 
York  ;  or  a  fleet  of  little  smacks,  that  in  the  summer  would  skip  out 
after  mackerel  and  blue-fish,  and  be  back  before  one  knew  they  were 
gone.  But  the  liveliest  scenes  were  when  the  fishing-vessels  that 
had  been  off  to  the  Banks  returned  with  their  catch,  and  one  after 
another  dropped  into  the  bay,  while  the  fishermen  went  ashore  and 
made  their  way  to  the  general  rallying  place,  —  D.  Scupper's  store. 

D.  Scupper's  store  was  a  square,  thick-set  building,  near  the  end 
of  a  road,  which,  after  coining  all  the  way  over  from  Hyannis,  and 
taking  pains  to  go  round  an  immense  boulder  that  refused  to  get 
out  of  the  way,  found  itself  stopped  dead  by  a  bank  that  stumbled 
off  into  the  water,  and  so,  being  disinclined  to  go  back  to  Hyannis, 
sauntered  about  the  Point  a  little,  and  made  itself  convenient  for  a 
few  houses  and  sheds. 

In  the  store  could  be  found  nearly  everything  that  was  worth 
having,  —  from  coffee-mills,  and  raisins,  and  Daboll's  Arithmetic,  to 
saucepans,  and  reels  for  yarn,  and  calico.  There  was  a  trap-door 
that  led  to  some  spicy  depths  below,  and  a  shuffling  staircase  in  the 
corner  that  led  to  some  crockery  heights  above,  while  the  broad 


TWO   CHRISTMAS  GIFTS.  243 

counter  in  the  middle  of  the  room  barricaded  great  bins  of  sugar 
and  rice ;  and  a  whole  post-office  of  little  drawers  at  the  side  of  the 
room  held  a  minute  assortment  of  apothecary  stuffs,  carpet-tacks, 
and  spices. 

But  it  was  not  so  much  to  revel  in  all  the  luxury  of  D.  Scupper's 
store  that  the  fishermen  and  neighbors  gathered  there,  —  but  to  see 
D.  Scupper  himself;  and  we  have  come  to  Scupper's  Point,  and  to 
D.  Scupper's  store  for  this  very  purpose  also.  You  could  not  help 
seeing  him.  In  the  middle  of  the  store,  close  by  the  old-fashioned 
balance-scales,  stood  a  stout,  broad-seated  chair,  wide  enough  to  hold 
two  common  people  without  squeezing  them.  But  it  was  only  just 
wide  enough  to  allow  Mr.  Scupper  to  settle  himself  comfortably  in 
it :  indeed,  one  arm  was  partially  gone :  broken  away,  we  believe, 
because  the  chair  was  too  snug  a  fit.  In  this  chair  sat  the  old  man, 
with  his  immense  form,  his  white  hair  starting  up  from  his  head,  his 
broad  face,  with  its  firm  mouth,  and  merry  twinkle  to  the  eye,  and 
his  busy,  restless  hands,  always  working  away  at  the  arms  of  the 
chair,  or  rubbing  down  his  obstinate  hair,  or  pulling  down  his  waist- 
coat, or  working  at  his  buckles,  or  tugging  at  his  tobacco-box,  from 
which  he  took  little  morsels,  no  larger  than  a  pin's  head  ;  the  won- 
der was  that  such  a  very  large  man  could  manage  such  a  very  small 
chew. 

Justice  of  the  Peace,  Esquire,  and  Commissioner  of  something  or 
other  all  the  time,  the  real  office  "which  he  held  was  that  of  General 
Counselor  for  -  all  the  neighborhood.  He  settled  the  quarrels  that 
arose,  and  administered  an  even  justice,  merely  by  the  weight  of  his 
character  and  sound  sense ;  and  no  fisherman  came  home  from  a 
voyage  without  bring  his  books  to  'Squire  Scupper  to  "  settle  the 
voyage  "  for  him.  Indeed,  it  would  have  been  hard  for  any  captain 
to  satisfy  his  crew,  unless  the  'Squire  had  said  it  was  all  right. 


244  DOINGS  OF  THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

But,  dear  me  !  what  have  we  to  do  with  all  this,  when  our  very 
small  story  has  only  to  do  with  D.  Scupper,  and  D.  Scupper's  little 
grandson,  Elisha.  All  of  the  captains  and  the  fishermen  of  the  Cape 
may  disappear,  if  they  will  leave  us  alone  for  a  little  while  with  these 
two,  on  Christmas  Eve,  toddling  across  from  the  store  to  the  old 
house  down  the  road,  as  night  was  shutting  in ;  old  Mr.  Scupper 
toddling  heavily  over  the  frosty  ground,  and  little  Elisha  (a  very, 
very  fat  little  boy)  toddling  beside,  muffled  in  a  comforter  that  his 
grandfather  had  wound  round  and  round  him,  as  if  he  had  been  the 
cork  inside  of  a  yarn  ball. 

Out  of  the  folds  of  this  comfortable  muffler  little  Elisha  was  hold- 
ing his  head  in  a  painfully  upright  way,  and,  not  taking  heed  to  his 
feet,  was  knocking  every  few  steps  against  his  grandfather,  who 
began  to  notice  his  vagrant  ways.  He  twitched  a  bit  of  the  com- 
forter. 

"  Hoy,  there,  'Lishy ;  walk  straight,  my  man.  Why,  what  are 
you  star-gazing  for?  " 

"  I  see  one !  I  see  one  !  "  exclaimed  the  little  fellow.  "  Gran'- 
ther,  I  see  a  star,  and  I  'm  going  to  say  it  right  off:  — 

"  Starlight !     Star  bright ! 
First  star  I  see  to-night, 
I  wish  I  may,  I  wish  I  might, 
Have  the  wish  I  wish  to-night." 

And  having  said  it  once,  Elisha  said  it  a  second  time,  and  then  a 
third. 

"  There,  Gran'ther,  I  've  said  it  three  times ;  now  you  say  it. 
But  you  must  look  at  the  star  first." 

So  Gran'ther  Scupper,  after  looking  in  every  direction  but  the 
right  one,  found  Elisha's  star,  and  delivered  himself,  with  considera- 


TWO   CHRISTMAS   GIFTS.  245 

ble  help  from  his  grandson,  of  the  magical  four  lines,  three  times 
repeated  ;  and  so  they  came  to  the  house,  and  pushed  through  the 
doorway,  to  be  greeted  by  Aunt  Polly. 

If  Mr.  Scupper  was  much  too  large,  his  sister  Polly  was  too  thin 
for  this  world.  She  was  so  thin  that  there  was  not  enough  weight 
to  keep  her  down  when  she  was  sitting ;  and  so  she  was  continually 
popping  up  and  flying  away  with  wings  made  of  towels  and  dusters, 
as  it  were.  Perhaps  it  was  much  cooking  that  had  reduced  her,  for 
certainly  there  seemed  no  hour  in  the  day  when  she  might  not  be 
seen  stirring  something  over  the  fire,  or  marching  about  with  a 
skillet  in  her  hand ;  and  the  sizzling  which  always  came  mysteri- 
ously from  where  she  was,  seemed  to  indicate  that  she  was  so  ab- 
sorbed in  cooking  that  when  nothing  else  was  to  be  had  she  cooked 
herself,  for,  as  she  went  hither  and  thither,  she  kept  up  this  sizzling 
sound  between  her  teeth,  and  Elisha,  when  somewhat  smaller,  used 
to  watch  her  and  the  flapjacks  alternately,  to  see  which  would  be 
done  first. 

Flapjacks  !  there  they  were  to-night  on  the  table,  —  for  a  little 
while  only ;  and  when  they  were  gone,  and  Aunt  Polly  was  whisk- 
ing about,  scouring  the  dishes,  and  putting  everything  away  as 
snugly  as  if  a  great  gale  were  expected,  and  all  must  be  lashed 
down,  Gran'ther  settled  into  another  of  his  great  chairs,  and  Elisha, 
sighing  with  a  sigh  of  comfort  over  the  last  round  flapjack  that 
could  be  taken  into  his  little  round  stomach,  tumbled  into  his  chair, 
and  looked  like  a  miniature  picture  of  the  big  grandfather  at  his 
side. 

"  Now  Gran'ther,"  said  he,  looking  very  solemn,  "  I  've  got  just 
a  great  wish,  —  Oh,  a  great  wish,"  and  he  wagged  his  solemn  head, 
"  but  I  'm  not  going  to  tell  you,  for  then  it  won't  come  true.  Now 
you  must  have  a  wish.  My  wish  is  going  to  happen  to-night." 


246  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

"  Hoy,  hoy  !  why  so  's  mine,"  said  Gran'ther.  "  But  mine  's  a 
little  wish,  so  it  can't  be  yours." 

"  Does  it  begin  with  a  D?  "  asked  Elisha,  timidly. 

"  Well,  —  yeS  ;  but  then  it  is  a  little  d." 

"  Oh,"  sighed  Elisha,  "  suppose  it 's  the  same  as  mine." 

"  I  wish  you  was  abed,"  said  Aunt  Polly,  who  had  been  in  and 
out,  and  was  nearly  through  with  all  she  could  think  of  to  do. 
"  You  're  too  fat  to  sit  there  before  the  fire.  Hop  up,  'Lishy,  it 's 
'most  eight  o'clock." 

"  I  believe  I  will  tell  you,  Aunt  Polly,"  said  he  ;  "  and  then  Gran'- 
ther can  tell  you  his,  and  you  can  see  if  they  're  the  same."  But 
Aunt  Polly  had  skipped  off  after  a  light  for  the  little  boy,  and  he 
thought  better  of  his  resolution,  for  he  was  afraid  they  were  the 
same. 

"  Gran'ther,"  said  he,  as  he  bade  him  good-night,  "  it's  all  fair  to 
tell  you  as  much  as  this :  if  my  wish  comes  true,  it  '11  be  a  Christ- 
mas present  for  you." 

"  I  declare  !  "  said  the  old  gentleman.  "  Now,  who  'd  have 
thought  it  ?  that 's  just  the  way  with  my  wish  ;  if  it  comes  true,  it'll 
be  a  Christmas  present  for  you,  'Lishy." 

"  Oh  goody  !  "  and  the  little  fellow  rubbed  his  knees,  as  his  grand- 
father did  when  he  was  pleased.  "  They  ain't  the  same.  They 
can't  be  !  "  and  off  he  went  to  bed. 

The  only  time  when  Mr.  Scupper  was  still  .all  over  was  in  the 
evening,  when  he  had  lighted  his  pipe,  and  sat 'reflectively  by  the 
fireside,  or  in  summer  in  the  porch.  Perhaps  it  was  that  Aunt 
Polly's  restlessness  carried  off  all  his  own  activity.  At  any  rate, 
there  he  sat,  with  his  hands  on  his  knees,  smoking,  and  staring  at 
the  fire,  until  his  pipe  was  out  ;  and  Aunt  Polly,  for  want  of  some- 


TWO   CHRISTMAS   GIFTS.  24T 

thing  else  to  do,  busied  herself  with  going  to  bed ;  when  he  also 
went  to  his  chamber,  put  on  his  great  yellow  nightcap,  and  tucked 
himself  up  in  his  bed,  that  groaned  for  a  moment  under  him,  and 
then  was  still. 

And  now  came  to  pass  a  strange  thing  :  for  while  the  stars  were 
winking  at  one  another  in  the  cold  sky,  and  the  one  particular  star 
which  Elisha  and  his  grandfather  had  first  seen  was  shining  steadily, 
as  if  nothing  were  about  to  happen,  inside  the  old  house  a  curious 
change  was  taking  place.  Lend  us  thy  light,  0  star  bright,  that  we 
may  look  in  upon  the  sleepers.  Into  this  room,  where  we  saw  little 
Elisha  go,  we  will  look  first.  But  this  is  not  little  Elisha !  What 
has  become  of  the  little  fellow  ?  here  lies  a  young  man,  who  looks 
as  if  he  might  have  been  Elisha  once.  Ha !  see  his  face.  He  is 
dreaming  strange  dreams  surely,  for  it  begins  to  have  lines  marked 
in  it  that  were  not  there  before ;  we  can  read  those  lines :  this  one 
means  disappointment,  that  one  means  hardship  ;  here  is  Care  writ- 
ing itself  deep  in  the  face ;  there  is  Bitterness  grooving  the  corners 
of  the  mouth  ;  Anxiety  is  turning  the  brown  hair  to  gray  ;  surely 
the  closed  eyes  see  Misery,  for  a  heaviness  drags  down  the  lids. 
And  now  wrinkles  begin  to  creep  over  the  forehead  and  temples, 
and  along  the  cheeks ;  they  are  like  the  rings  of  the  oak-tree  ;  they 
tell  of  the  years  of  storm  that  have  swept  over  it.  The  head  has 
become  silvered,  the  face  marked  with  lines  and  crosses.  Surely 
this  is  not  our  little  Elisha ;  it  must  be  old  Mr.  Scupper  who  has 
crept  in  here.  Let  us  seek  his  room  and  see. 

Oddest  of  sights  there  !  for  in  the  great  bed,  peeping  out  from  the 
yellow  nightcap,  we  see  a  face  that  is  half  Elisha's  and  half  the  old 
gentleman's.  What  has  disappeared  ?  What  has  come  ?  The  deep 
furrows  of  Gran'ther  Scupper's  face  have  gone,  and  there  is  a  ruddy 


248  DOINGS    OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

glow  of  youth  taking  their  place  ;  the  smooth  skin,  the  straight 
mouth,  the  even  eyes,  —  these  have  no  care  or  trouble  back  of 
them  ;  and  yet,  and  yet,  we  miss  something.  What  is  it  ?  We 
want  old  Gran'ther  back  again.  Ah,  now  his  mouth  is  turning  up 
at  the  corners,  his  head  puts  on  a  shock  of  brown  hair,  and  surely  a 
child  is  before  us,  happy,  unconscious  of  care  and  trouble.  All  the 
wisdom  has  gone  from  Gran'ther's  face,  all  the  serene  light,  and  the 
quick,  determined  air. 

Give  us  back  again  our  little  Elisha.  We  want  old  Gran'ther 
Scupper  once  more ! 

The  stars  grow  fainter,  and  the  star  bright  no  longer  lights  the 
rooms  in  the  old  house  for  us.  There  is  a  rustling.  Aunt  Polly  is 
astir,  flying  about  the  house,  getting  it  in  order,  as  if  she  had  been 
asleep  since  last  Christmas,  and  there  had  been  no  one  to  look  after 
the  premises.  Then  there  is  a  patter  of  feet  down  the  staircase 
from  the  garret.  Good !  here  comes  Elisha  in  his  night-gown,  the 
self-same  little  round  fellow  that  climbed  up-stairs  last  night.  He 
is  making  for  Gran'ther's  room.  Dear,  dear  !  if  he  should  see  what 
we  saw.  He  peeps  in  at  the  door,  and  we  look  through  the  crack 
by  the  hinge.  There  is  the  old  gentleman  slowly  opening  one  eye. 

"  Merry  Christmas !  merry  Christmas,  Gran'ther  !  "  shouts  Elisha, 
and  tumbles  into  the  room,  and  climbs  up  the  great  bedstead,  while 
Gran'ther  lends  a  sleepy  hand,  and  helps  hoist  him  on  board. 

"  Hoy,  hoy  there,  youngster,  waking  your  sleepy  old  Gran'ther 
up.  What  d'  ye  mean,  sir  ?  "  and  the  old  gentleman  gave  hifh  a 
shake  and  a  squeeze,  which  made  Elisha  bounce  up  and  down  on  the 
blanket. 

"  Oh,  Gran'ther  !  "  said  he,  when  he  could  catch  his  breath,  "  I 
had  an  awful  dream,  —  an  awful  one.  I  thought  I  was  as  old,  oh, 
as  old  —  as  —  as  Aunt  Polly." 


TWO   CHRISTMAS   GIFTS.  249 

"  Say  as  old  as  your  granddaddy,  you  little  rogue.  Well,  did  n't 
you  like  it  ?  you  're  always  saying,  '  When  I  'ra  as  old  as  Gran'- 
ther.'  " 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Elisha,  rolling  his  little  head.  "  I  never,  never 
wish  I  may  be  as  old  again.  Why,  Gran'ther,  'seems  to  me  I  was 
just  as  tired,  and  everything  was  so  dreadful.  People  kept  a-dying, 
and  everybody  was  cross,  and  I  was  cold  and  hungry ;  why,  I  was 
out  in  a  great  storm  at  sea,  and  I  thought  every  moment  we  were 
going  on  the  rocks.  Gran'ther  !  "  he  added,  suddenly,  as  he  caught 
sight  of  the  old  gentleman's  face,  "  I  verily  believe  you  did  it.  Did 
you  wish  for  me  to  be  an  old  man  ?  Say,  did  you  ?  " 

"Well,  yes,  'Lishy,"  said  he,  smoothing  his  face  with  his  hand, 
"  I  did  for  fun  —  wish  that  last  night." 

"  Oh  —  oh,"  and  Elisha  drew  a  long  breath.  "  Why,  I  wished 
for  you  "  — - 

"That  I  might  be  a  little  boy  :  and  I  was." 

"  Grandpapa  Scupper  !  " 

"-  Yes,  and  I  don't  think  I  liked  it  much.  I  seemed  to  be  growing 
younger  all  the  time,  and  forgetting  everything  that  has  happened 
lately.  Why,  I  forgot  you,  my  little  grandson  ;  and  then  I  forgot 
your  father  and  mother,  and  everything  else  that  is  precious  to  me  ; 
I  seemed  to  be  losing  something  all  the  time,  and  at  last  I  got  to  be 
younger  than  you,  and  I  don't  know  where  I  should  have  stopped, 
if  the  light  coming  in  had  n't  waked  me.  And  then  I  fell  asleep 
again,  when  I  found  I  was  still  a  good-for-nothing  old  man." 

"  Gran'ther,  you  're  the  bestest  old  man  !  Was  n't  it  queer  ? 
Why,  I  thought  it  would  be  splendid,  if  you  could  dream  you  were 
a  little  boy.  You  know  you  are  always  telling  me  what  you  used 
to  do  when  you  were  a  little  boy." 


250  DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY. 

These  were  the  two  Christinas  gifts '  that  old  Mr.  Scupper  and  his 
grandson  gave  each  other  that  Christmas ;  but  there  were  two 
better  ones  that  remained  to  each.  In  little  Elisha's  heart  was 
Hope,  that  made  the  future  look  very  bright,  for  he  knew  noth- 
ing of  the  evils  that  were  to  come  ;  in  Gran'ther  Scupper's  heart 
was  Recollection,  that  gathered  in  a  great  heap  all  the  happiness  of 
a  long  life,  and  laid  it  before  the  old  man's  eyes. 


THE    END. 


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The  little  folk  all  know  the  Bodley  Books,  and  delight  in 
them.  Mr.  Scudder  is  a  model  story-teller  for  children,  a 
miracle  worker  in  the  matter  of  awakened  interest.  —  New 
York  Evening  Post. 

So  delightful  that  any  reader,  young  or  old,  wou'd  be 
glad  to  have  more  like  them.—  The  Watchman  (Boston). 


Dream    Children, 
cents. 


Illustrated.      75 


Seven     Little     People     and     their 

Friends.     Illustrated.     75  cents. 

Stories  from  my  Attic.     Illustrated. 
$1.00. 

Mr.  Scudder,  who  has  written  this  pretty  book,  has  as 
pleasant  a  gift  as  any  author  we  know  for  interesting  chil- 
dren through  their  imaginative  and  generous  side,  —  most 
people  being  content  to  take  their  wonder  and  fancy.  He 
writes  suggestively  for  them,  as  here  and  there  an  agreeable 
essayist  or  po;t  does  for  their  elders;  and  he  has  a  style  so 
charmingly  simple  and  easy  that  we  can  no  more  give  him 
up  to  the  children  than  we  can  allow  them  Andersen  alto- 
gether. —  The  Atlantic  Monthly. 


Swiss  Family  Robinson.     Fully  il- 
lustrated.   $1.00. 

What  boy  who  has  read  the  "  Swiss  Family  Robinson," 
has  not  envied  the  brave  and  manly  Fritz  and  Jack  the  ad- 
ventures they  met  with  on  that  truly  marvelous  island  ?  What 
one  of  them  would  not  exchange  the  luxuries  and  conveniences 
of  his  own  home  for  the  romance  of  "  Tent  House  "  and  the 
"  Falcon's  Nest,'1  which  they  have  so  often  dreamed  of  as 
the  headquarters  of  boyish  romance  ?  —  Utica  Herald. 

A  Treasury  of  Pleasure  Books  for 

Young    People.      With    elegant    illustrations 
printed  in  oil  colors.    8vo,  full  gilt,  $1.25. 

Being  a  Boy.     By  Charles    Dudley 

Warner,  author  of   "  My  Summer  in  a  Gar- 
den,"    etc.     Illustrated  by  "  Champ."     $1.50. 

The  book  is  full  of  the  dry,  unexpected  humor  of  which 
Mr.  Warner  is  a  master,  and  is  equally  delightful  to  boys  of 
all  ages  from  six  to  say  sixty  or  seventy  years.  It  is  full  of 
clever  pictures,  too,  by  "  Champ,"  who  has  so  fully  entered 
into  the  author's  spirit  that  the  text  and  the  illustrations 
seem  to  be  necessary  parts  of  the  single  whole.  — New  York 
Evening  Post. 

No  boy  can  help  being  better  for  reading  this  fine  and  hu- 
mane book,  which  must  become  dear  to  its  readers,  young 
or  old,  as  a  friend  becomes  dear.  —  Atlantic  Monthly. 


MRS.  A.  D.  T.  WHITNEY. 

Faith    Gartney's    Girlhood.       Illus- 
trated.   $1.50. 


The      Gayworthys :      A     Story     of 
Threads  and  Thrums.     $1.50. 

Patience  Strong's  Outings.     $1.50. 

Hitherto :    A    Story  of    Yesterdays. 

$1.50. 

A  Summer  in  Leslie  Goldthwaite's 
Life.     Illustrated.    #1.50. 

We  Girls.     A   Home  Story.     Illus- 
trated.   $1.50. 

Real  Folks.     Illustrated.     $1.50. 
The  Other  Girls.    Illustrated.    $2.00. 

Mrs.  Whitney  always  writes  with  a  purpose,  and  her 
works  go  right  down  to  the  innermost  soul  of  all  earnest 
readers ;  and  they  can't  help  feeling  strengthened  and  in- 
vigorated, and  their  souls  called  to  duty  as  by  the  sounds  of 
a  trumpet.  There  is  a  breezy,  hearty  way  with  her,  that 
suggests  the  capable,  clear-sighted,  energetic  woman;  and 
her  stories  are  of  the  highest  and  best  order  of  fiction.  — 
Louisville  Courier-Journal. 

Such  books  as  hers  should  be  in  every  household,  to  be 
read,  loaned,  reread  and  reloaned,  so  long  as  the  leaves  and 
covers  will  hold  together,  —  not  holiday  volumes  for  elegant 
quiet,  but  stirring  and  aggressive  works,  with  a  "mission/1 
which  is  to  make  the  world  better  than  they  find  it.  —  Bos- 
ton Commonwealth. 

Mrs.  Whitney  has  succeeded  in  domesticating  herself  in 
a  great  number  of  American  homes.  The  purity,  sweetness, 
shrewdness,  tenderness,  humor,  the  elevated  but  still  homely 
Christian  faith,  which  find  expression  in  her  writings,  en- 
dear her  to  thousands.  —  E.  P.  WHIPPLE. 


J.  G.  WHITTIER. 

Child  Life.     A  Collection  of  Poems, 

selected  and  edited,  with  an  introduction,  by 
J.  G.  Whittier.     Illustrated.     Full  gilt,  $2.25. 

Child-Life  in  Prose.     Selected  by  J. 
G.  Whittier.     Illustrated.     Full  gilt,  $2.25. 

These  two  books  would  constitute  a  library  for  any  family 
of  children,  the  value  of  which  they  would  never  cease  to 
acknowledge.  Parents  who  are  forming  little  libraries  for 
their  households  will  do  well  to  begin  with  these,  even  if 
their  means  forbid  buying  any  others  at  present.  —  Boston 
A  dvertiser. 


HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN   &   CO.,  PUBLISHERS, 

BOSTON,   MASS. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  LOS  ANGELES 

THE  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below 


